The walls hold mementoes
of pieces collected through the years
on travels and from friends.
Most make you smile,
while a few bring a tear
as they peel away the days
to when I was young.
I keep them to remind me
of people I used to know.
A few are in heaven now,
but others I see occasionally.
All of them remain in my thoughts
living on through my memento memories.
3 April 2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful, David. One can almost feel the spirit of the past owner, whether dead or alive. Thanks for sharing