I have a box of memories
Tidbits of this and that
The past of good and bad
From time to time I blow off the dust
Pulling off the top and digging inside
Looking over this and that
Seeing
Feeling
Remembering
How much have things really changed?
For better or for worse
Love and lost
Here and now
I wanna laugh and cry
But I do neither
Touching the folded papers
With soft fingers
A lingering smile
Or a deep sigh
It’s good to remember
To think of the past
Yet some things
Are better left buried
In the box of memories