Banana peel on the lunchroom table

The banana peel on the lunchroom table
reminds me of you.
Its skin has browned from time,
it lays haphazardly strewn
in a plastic bag,
no longer wanted.
It is all that remains
once the good is gone.
It accepts its place without resistance,
not fighting to matter,
not demanding more.
It has resigned itself to a life
without the banana
that gave it worth.

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Banana peel on the lunchroom table

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