The Good Old Days                                                                                                          by Joan Pond The good old days expired when I sat on the bed and he said he didn’t love me as much as I loved him. Irrecoverable obsolete, I was past perfect; incomplete without him Once upon a time I’d found my prince but he turned me into something less. Weighed and found wanting I packed beggardly boxes and left, not wanting to lose more than I could afford.       Good Old Days  Copyright © 1998 by Joan Pond, All rights reserved Contact Joan at boodles1@aol.com Read more Joan at  https://www.artvilla.com/joanpond