you never risked
your favorite marble.
the one you treasured,
the one with blue
and silver sparkling
within it's glass
enclousure. a perfect
cat's eye. that
marble never saw
the middle of the
drawn dirt circle.
instead you threw out
the dull, the worn,
the chipped, the
yellow ones that had
no soul, no grip
upon your childhood
psyche. never did
the sweet one get
lost. and you still
have it, even now
within your dresser
drawer, as precious
as a diamond, as
valuable as youth
itself.
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