You serve no purpose

Filled with random bits of everyday things

The remnants of something else’s purpose

Collector of refuse

Pieces of an unfulfilled future only to be washed away

You are an empty pocket in a tattered pair of old blue jeans

Fraying, failing and held onto for no better reason than the memory of a potential use

Twice repaired, stitched and ironed

It’s time you were retired

Unable to hold, to fulfill your duty

You have not served me well

Goodbye Pocket.