Crumbs Of You

Crumbs of you Are all that remain: Muddy boots of toughened leather, Sinkers and lures, under the bed. I could go fishing baitless, Weighed down by your discarded lead, Wearing only your rotting boots While reading the tattered paperbook You left in the hutch. You were careful not to leave behind much; I could look through your discarded glasses Now that you're the new man, With new, bright eyes; you see much better now: You saw so good after the surgery; You saw clear through this heart, Then left it, for another one. And no wonder; through these murky lenses I can find no empathy for me at all. If you happen to come back down this way, After climbing the ladder, to find those better things, Don't bother stopping here- Cause I won't remember your name.