Paper Skeletons

At some point in my life

I did some things

Not necessarily

            Good things

But things.

I’d like to say I’ve done

            Good things

But we’ve all got our skeletons

Don’t we?

These things

Hang on cobwebs of steel

Invincible

To secrets that need keeping.

            Good things

Just don’t happen to me

Like princes

Men on horseback

Minor miracles

            Good things

Take awfully long to come

I’ve been waiting a long time.

Packed into a closet

I’ve kept shut for years

Terrified of the boogey monsters

Occupying it.

They whisper all the

            Good things

I could have done with them

All the

            Good things

They haven’t done.

Good things

Aren’t made of steel

They’re like paper skeletons

Remnants of the things

The

            Good things

That wither and rot and

Fade into dust

Never lasting forever.