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.