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Rated: E · Poetry · Family · #1229151
How i feel about how my mother's mess...
The Boxes are here
and filled full with
years of filth & tears,
of pictures & fears.
Old memories,
long forgotten,
Records and 8-tracks,
vases and knick-knacks,
Some are treasures, yeah
but most is trash.

Boxes, boxes to the sky...
clear a space for the dog to lie.
Could you make a path for me to walk?
And please don't mind if I do gawk.
'Cause I will never understand why
you are like this, Mom,
Is this really how you want your home?


You say,
"Don't touch this or that!
It's from too far away,
it's in the past!"

"Leave it right there,
it's in it's box,
it's exactly where I know
that it won't be lost!"

But, just to let you know,
I just sat on this box,
and there was actually something important in it.
It was your heart and your life,
and a space in which to live it.
© Copyright 2007 Juniper (spryflyer at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1229151-Boxes-to-the-Sky