Here in the Museum
of Mistakes
I wander among
the many exhibits
amazed
gasp
at how stupid
people can be
look through
protective glass
at the ghost
of a love
my own face
reflected back at me.
Such finely crafted
heartbreak.
Perfect little memories
glint cruelly against the lights
displayed against
the stark contrast of black velvet.
I remember these
didn’t realise
how valuable
they were
then
priceless
now.
I turn away
& cry
having seen too much
here
in my Museum
of Mistakes
the Past
comes back
to haunt me.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/museum-of-mistakes/
