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Memory Box by Harlei Walter
I sit with this memory box , Looking at antiques , confused Not knowing what happened Like distant figures creeping Never to be noticed until found How can that be ? How can nineteen years Of my life be a blur ? Part of me wants to relive them But what if they aren ’ t what I remember Or what I imagined them to be ? I don ’ t know why I don ’ t remember I have this box in front of me I guess I ’ ll just keep it Locked away