Curios

Curios

Mine is mine and to each their own
so whom are we to pass judgement

One’s choices predicated upon
by how you my dear individual perceive

Reapers, the purveyors of goods grim
honouring both dollar and ritual

But just because you can
does it mean you should indulge the macabre

Incendiary with a highly volatile fuse
fostering unspoken mortification

Done from love by loss
as inherently personal as love’s little death

Memories tactile, both taking away
and in embracing the pain

Open wide to holding up a mirror
reflection upon your hurting self

Morbid, magnificent, maudlin, majestic
what else could be said of selections such

Each and every with their unique curio
memory memorabilia a curious thing

Nature ‘tis of we mournful beasts
displaying in so many ways

Turning cheek, both other and off if you please
my crass, your cats ass

One tap, two tap, three, forever remains in me

G.R. Hambley ©
June 01, 2017

I made an error in formatting on the original post. The error is now corrected. The poetry has not changed.

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