Memories

Boxed up with a bow, gift beautiful, secure

wrapped in soft cloth, feeling happy and sure.

Now the tape is torn,not well kept together

cut open with holes, tossed like a weak feather. 

The gift is shattered, but remains in that box

damaged, unworthy, weighed down by giant rocks. 

Rocks that dent the shape, that was rebuilt so well

admired gently, ringing praises like a bell. 

Fixed way too quickly, ripped apart in pieces

scattered everywhere, the burden increases.

Swept up in one scoop, little noise to the ears.

Swept up in one day, a gift wrapped for eight years.

-Belle Rose