Ole Shoebox

Hmm, a photograph Two quarters and a dime A half written note A set of tags A few keys and credit cards Driver’s license and I.D. Surprising what fits In an ole shoebox A few clothes thrown together Some well pressed An old pair of sneakers And well polished shoes A mind full of memories A room full of emptiness No doubt the room Will be filled again The box handed over And the memories lived I’d just rather not Be holding these tags Through the silenced laughter Echoes the days we knew How with hair on fire How high we flew Larger than life Now within my hands In what I hold So much more is told Than a few items in a box For what lies within Is a life well lived Cut much too short For a greater cause So surprising it is What fits in an ole shoebox I’d just rather not Be holding these tags And damn my friend I so want you back