poetry

Top Shelf

Sharpest Perception a Road Less Traveled

​

Alone I sit by waiting,

dusty at his personal bar’s disposal.

Frustated, by once being the world to him,

having his back and both shoulders.

A true knock out,

the creme dela creme, of well rounded excellence,

until his hidden jealousies disruptively showed up,

spilling contempt,

from his half empty, cup.

His thought’s were,

I’d be consumed by a more reserved someone else,

due to my 100 proof uniqueness and personality’s wealth.

Noticing too late, I’d been infinitely placed, on the top shelf.

As I Resonated, stewing in my own juices,

getting more refined but without my grandest uses.

More expensive, exquisite options began crossing my mind,

inquiries regarding the top shelf’s content,

came and went all the time.

They wondered quizzically about the dusty label covered,

as I waited mundanely for someone to discover.

I recall in past asking to be placed on a pedestal and lavishly treated…

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