Bloody Little Photograph. [One of my Poems.]

This frame is broken and the picture inside it is shit.
It's wedged in, barely able to fit.
Some cutting was necessary,
The action became secondary.

Every slice hurt,
The pain gave it its worth.
No need to flatter,
This photo doesn't matter.

It was a gift I made for all of you,
You looked at it and had your fun but you put it at the bottom of the drawer when you were through.
I don't blame you a bit,
At first it was pretty but you got sick of it.

You'll never see a photo bleed.
Nor cry, nor plead.
So let it remain in the drawer collecting dust,
Because forgetting is a must.