Glamour

I am the waste material flung aside when the dress is made.

I am the the ripped belt worn to prom, then never worn again.

I am the bracelet your parents got you, flung aside.

I am the teeth you lost as a child, forgotten.

I am your first bicycle. Left to rust with other broken memories.

I am your blanky when you were small. Burnt in the bonfire with the

Board game that taught you to read.

Left in the flat with the

Pen that taught you to write.

Sold in the pawn shop with the

Clothes you wore when you were born.

I am the mother whom you never knew.

And now it is your glamour 

and not me

that you pursue.