The Box
I was just a little boy when I first noticed it
On my fathers dresser, a little box did sit
I learned my dad had made it and displayed it with some pride
Fashioned with a little lock, I could not look inside
I always wondered what it was, what did the box hold
I so wanted to open it, the mystery to unfold
But that was not to be, the box intact remained
And no matter how I pleaded, my entrance never gained
I'd ask my dad what was inside, he'd say “some day you'll know”
“One day when I'm no longer here, the box to you will go”
“When you have become a man and my time here is through”
“I will leave you with the key, the box then yours to view”
The years advanced in number, my childhood left behind
But still when I'd think of home, that box would come to mind
I wondered if it was still there, if he remembered what he'd said
Was there still a little box on the dresser near his bed.
I remember when I got the call, my dad has passed away
I caught a flight and went back home, my respects to pay
And in the days that followed, I helped clean out his things
A task that no one wants to do, the heartache that it brings
That' is when my mother brought a little box to me
She said "dad saved this for you" and handed me a key
I cannot underestimate the power that it had
In my hand, the little box, as promised by my dad
After all the years of mystery, I finally would see
Emotion welled within me, as I turned the key
When I opened up the lid, it opened without sound
And let my eyes fall upon the treasure I had found.
P.S.
I have passed my box to you
What it holds you can decide
You'll see your own treasures
When you look inside
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