Cleaning My Room
A long forgotten box right there it lies,
Concealed by recent study documents,
I wonder what the secrets there may rise,
Surrounded by a stack of ornaments,
I clean the dust on top of everything,
And close my eyes to fall into the past,
With who, and where, did I put on that ring?
Excited, hoping for a memorable blast!
The precious box held tightly in my lap,
Closed shut with locks that break irrevocably,
Which means once broke will forever cause a gap,
Perhaps I should not venture recklessly.
What’s past is past and I should not look back.
In case I find the proof of where I lack.
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