Ticket Stubs

I keep my ticket stubs

In my diary

They’re fading together

 

Smothered in scribbles

Meaningless in virtue

Incomprehensible in design

Irrelevant, somewhat

 

Dog-eared, four corners,

Maybe a thousand

Messy folds

Intact, but marked

 

The captions, diminished

Losing their trace

My memory fails

The moment is gone

 

My ticket stubs and diary

I carry them with me

We fade together.

 

 

 

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