Blog, Take Two

The Attic

Old clothes
lay under years
of memories.
Ripped and torn,
they lay unworn,
unused.

The mismatched socks
no longer search
for their pair;
the shoes no
longer wish for
new soles.

The sweaters
have succumbed
to moths,
their fabric punctured
by time.

The clock ticks away,
uncaring and numb
to its dilapidation.

Threads lay unraveled
and frayed,
no longer desiring
refashion.

Change,
you are unwarranted.

Time,
you are unwelcome.