Tattered Wrapper

We focus on the inside, disregard the rest.

A scrap is all that remains

The memory gone from my brain

Nothing is left but the taste

A wrapper that will go to waste

Exoskeleton hastily unpieced

Not a thought was given in the least

Aimlessly tossed

Thought was lost

The inside that matters

And the outside is left in tatters

Patternless creases

Adorn the once rich pieces

Chocolate was admired

The wrapper left tired

On the journey to the trash

Now worthless in cash

Who makes the choice

Decides without a voice

Maybe this waste

Is really laced

With experience of being used

An even though it’s a bit bruised

It represents a blink of pleasure

And what we consider to be treasure