I have a box of memoriesTidbits of this and thatThe past of good and badFrom time to time, I blow off the dustPulling off the top and digging insideLooking over this and thatSeeingFeelingRememberingHow much have things changed?For better or for worseLove and lostHere and nowI want to laugh and cryBut I do neitherTouching the folded ...