Cloth for Nothing

There's so much to say of a story that no one bold enough dared to speak. To some it's a casualty. To others it's a feat. Doubtless though it remains, the story was etched in the hands of time. Gone with the swift, gentle blow of the wind. Kept silenced forever by the guardian of the night.

This moment,
I write the saddest line.

I rummaged it up
from a dirt-laden,
stockpiled pieces of cloth.

I used to wear them
once even felt so
relaxed on my bod.

In fact, I used to look
good on them.

I loved to flaunt them,
as a calvin klein
or a dkny hunk would.

The skimpiness
of the cotton fabric
touts my slender fit.

How i admired it,
plus adored and deified!

Now stained and blooded,
ripped and tattered,
I'll use it for the last time

Just to sort of remember
that the saddest line
was once the Happy one.