An empty box
Sitting on a shelf
Filled with memories.
I see it every day,
Take it down sometimes,
And hold it,
Feeling its lightness
But keeping it shut;
Afraid the memories
Will escape.
Childhood streets,
And alleyways behind,
Sandy beaches,
Sun warm on my skin,
People I’ve known,
Secrets I keep,
Flown away,
Gone,
Like photos
Exposed to light,
If the bareness inside,
Is revealed.
One day,
Someone will
Take it down
And look inside.
But by then
There’ll be nothing
To find.
Just an empty box.
Please follow and like us:
