Trifled Memoirs...

Collecting Trivialities, Has Become Habitual,
May I End Up With A Domicile Full Of Trifles,
As I Cherish Them, Call Me Schizophrenic They,
Pebbles, Flints, Shells, Cards, Gifts, Toys, Pens,
Sometimes Make My World Lively & Strident,
Articulation Of The Inertness, Keeps Me Rapt,
As They Craft A Handsome Rainbow Around Me,
The Doodles Of The Past, That Desiccated Flower
Between The Pages, That Virgin Peacock Feather,
Those Dog-Eared Books, & Washed Out Letters,
Might Have A Forgotten Ballad To Recite Again,
Usually My Solitude Gets Anxious By Whispering
Marble Pieces, Listening To My Chocolate Wrappers,
As They Unwrap Another Set Of Age-Old Memoirs...