Some of my boxes
live on my nightstand now.
My favorite is the treasure box.
It is brown and is worn.
It has a small crack,
maybe because I decided to turn back.
It gives me a small frown,
every time I look at it,
because it reminds me of a time
when I stood strong
and before I went wrong.
Now, I'm here,
staring at my box,
wondering where I went wrong.
Then all of a sudden DRIP!
I'm back,
standing next to him
when all of a sudden I hear him say,
"Hey, Val."
YOU ARE READING
Midnight Poems
PoetryPoems I write at midnight that might make you think. I am no poet but this is how I vent my feelings out to this planet called Earth. Can read in any order *Warning a most will be Sad poems*
