A wallet apeared at the coffee table
seemingly ordinary and mundane.
Multiple hands pried at it
something wasn't right.
It contained all the ordinary things
money, coins and cards.
Not a thing was out of place
but something wasn't right.
It was brand new;
It wasn't torn, it wasn't soiled,
neither stuffed nor overused;
but something wasn't right.
It wasnt the only wallet there,
it didnt contain riches
It wasn't branded, infact, the opposite.
Yes, something wasn't right.
It wasn't flashy, it wasn't cute,
it didnt have diamonds;
it even wasn't pink.
And that was what was wrong.
A woman carried a man's wallet
that was what was wrong.
A wallet was genderized
That was what was wrong.
what a great poem...keep writing.
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