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.

It’s 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 don’t want a hardened heart.

I must bear the pain...

I’ve caused it you see...

I can’t 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