They tell me I’m worth a million of you,
That may be true,
And if you only knew,
Maybe you’d see it too,
But what use is a gold watch sitting on a shelf,
That one item the jeweler can never sell,
A work of art left somewhere at the back of the garage,
With the dinner service that was never used,
Always being saved for another day that never comes,
Both of which get lost behind a sheet of dust,
The tap that would give water for life,
If it wasn’t left to rust,
Kinda like the love in my heart,
Before it was left to doubt and not trust.
© Rob Spencer 2021
That's All Write 