My heart always got
So wrapped around you.
Eventually it would become
A tangled mess.
Each time I’d have to
Cut it loose,
I’d lose more strands.
I’ve collected each line tenderly;
Placed them with care into
A box,
Making sure that no end
Touched another;
Stored the box
On my highest shelf;
Pushed it
To the very back.
Perhaps someday the pieces will all
Forget their connections,
Forget what they held,
Forget what they felt,
And I
Will forget
The box.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lee Ann, Very nice the way you wrote about memories. Enjoyed, Enjoyed, Enjoyed. Rusty