a box

 

I have a box full of wonderful memories.

As I sort through its contents tears fill my eyes.

The memories have turned into deadened hopes and stifled dreams.

Itís a box full of pain...

Waiting to be opened...

Waiting to cut at my heart.

I open it often...

I open it to remember...

I open it to cry...

I open it to be healed.

I donít want a hardened heart.

I must bear the pain...

Iíve caused it you see...

I canít run away...

It will only catch up with me another day.

Today I hurt...

Today I pray...

Today I live...

†† to see another day.

 

©1990 Dale Speakes