You came looking for me, your second choice
long kept on a shelf in the back of your closet
with unread books and a college text
the throwaways of your younger self;
an unwanted toy which never gave voice
to the hurt of being second choice.
Oh you kept me hooked; your back up boy
always ready for you and eager to play;
pulling me from the shelf
now and then, for amusement;
your brightly stuffed toy, your taste of the day
‘til you tired of me and put me away
in the walk in closet of forgotten memory
’til the first fine line and your first touch of gray
sent you fishing on Facebook for the one thrown away;
And you went to your closet in search of me
but the cupboard was bare, for you see
I too found a back up girl
and we turned out to be the parents of three.
Did I cheat her of something?
What does it matter;
she’ll never know; like me she was extra
Who’s the one next to you
in the group photograph?
Who’s the one with the face
too unhappy to laugh?
It was me.
photo is public domain