Simply put, you are old,
Torn up, scratched, worn, and cold;
But from these marks, I am clearly told,
That someone once loved you.
You were the favourite of the lot,
Repeatedly holding the number one spot,
In winters cold and summers hot;
I know someone once loved you.
Now those days are gone; you're here with me.
I peruse your scrapes and scuffs carefully,
But from first sight, I can clearly see,
That I am going to love you.
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/338243203-288-k224631.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
Processing
PoetryWe're all processing something, and sometimes you need an outlet to do so. My processing manifests as poetry. I hope you enjoy it. <3