Keepsakes
In an old biscuit tin
With my bits and pieces put in
That remind me of our times
And things that are always mine
I take them out sometimes
For reminding me of a memory fine
Each piece wiped bright again
Before placed carefully back in
I only bring them out when I’m alone
So my tears are not to you shown
Their touch closes my eyes
Bringing you out in my memory alive.
© Paul Warren Poetry
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