Poetry (Day 17): A Box of Memories

 

A Box of Memories

The old man was confused. Searching.
He didn’t know he was in hospital.
He didn’t know that the sun had long gone
from the sky and darkness had come.
All he wanted was to find his box.
Under the bed. In the drawers.
He needed it now, so he could
go through the contents and sort them
into meaningful piles.

It was as if his mind was throwing
out dreams from a life where every
memory could be stored away
ready to be used at some later date.

If only he could find the box
and separate reality from
the confusion that had spread
his thoughts across so many years.

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