Every time we move,
we pack our little things in boxes,
and some inside our mind.
These are the special things;
we do no want to leave behind.
The special things we have,
that spell out love there.
The precious things we own,
that hold so many memories there,
whether they be large or small.
The little boxes we pack,
we make them all secure,
and mark them handle with care.
For nothing can replace,
the precious things we have there.
(20 June 2007)
Nothing can replace precious thigs we hold close, how true this is.... When the movers pack you up for the move, it takes awile at times to find what you need at your new destination even though clearly marked on each box...And those oh so special things that you can't chance loosing, need to go in the luggage on the plane...Worst part is having to put the 'family pet' which is really another child, in with the baggage.....See how many directions your poem took me to, , ? ? ? ~~marci.xo
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The memories of a place is the hardest things to let go, but you have them neatly stored in your mind to pull out at anytime, but its just not the same has when you walk into a room and remember all the good things that happened there...10