All Neat and Tidy

I packed my life
In to an old
Cardboard box
And put it away
Under the stairs
Years danced by
Bland and unnoticed
Until one day I
Upon that box
Battered, soggy
And covered in webs
With my life
I’d packed my
Memories too
Not knowing what
I would find, I
Tore open the box
In a flash that old
Life came flooding
Filling me with
Colour and pain
and spreading out
In to the world
Never to be boxed

One thought on “All Neat and Tidy

  1. How very true.

    The writer should not despair that those colourful, painful memories shall never be boxed again, for the passing of time is the box, a time which heals and repairs, comforting and consoling.

    A box which is so much more than five soggy cardboard sides and a lid…

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