A box of memories,
sitting in the back of your mind.
Like a bunch of melodies,
swinging through time.
A package that will never be delivered,
because there's no-one home to sign.
Filled with voices, tales, and stories.
All of your mistakes, and all of your worries.
It'd be so easy to forget,
but that'd leave too much to regret.
So it will just sit here.
Just out of reach,
but never far enough -
To give you any peace.
|
Email this Poetry
|
Add to reading list





