A Box Full Of Life

Untitled
Roman Kraft

Opening the lid to the past.

Joy, tears, and laughter escape.

Youthful feelings rushing back expectedly.

Playing in the past like it was yesterday.

Staying there is tempting,

in the good ‘ole days.

But were they really?

Boxed memories are nearly all good.

Who saves the crap?

Those moments slowly come back too.

Time to close the lid.

Back to reality.

Advertisements

Captured

Untitled

Over and over, repeated re-injury of the senses.
It’s what we had.

Dressed in our despair, bonded by pain.
It’s what we shared.

We twisted and contorted, struggled further to gain control.
It’s how we fought.

Every prick of the conscience drained another abscess.
It’s how we learned.

Giving up was not an option.
It’s how we lived.