Shards of glass bangles scattered on the floor,
casting vibrant reflections that dance with the sun.
Heaps of ball pens thrown carelessly in the bins,
some chewed up, with empty refills and some not.
Torn gift wrapping paper that lays under the tree,
still waiting to be picked up, folded and hoarded.
Broken photo frames and faded pictures, and
heedless intentions to buy glue and restore them.
Dolls, monster trucks, hotwheels and play doh,
all sealed in a box addressed to the orphanage.
Tea and coffee stained mugs lined up on the
wet kitchen counter, waiting to be washed up.
Old shirts, pants and dresses with holes in them,
ones that didn’t get a stitch in time, now need nine.
Newspaper bundles and textbooks of known arts,
resold to those who can magically revive them.
Broken bones and cuts, that the body mends,
colourful signed casts and kissed silver scars.
Novel, tangible objects of all shapes and sizes,
simply added to cart at the snap of our fingers.
But the lessons learnt, that are burnt into our brain
are here to stay, our memories are irreplaceable.