The old shoebox in my room

Rife with memories, sealed tight.
The old shoebox in my room, beckons me at night.
We built it together, you and I.
I can still see you, by my side, if I just close my eyes.

A brilliant idea, you said, I laughed,
that you were being childish.
Old movie tickets, a chocolate wrapper, a torn piece of paper.
Why save any of that? I had exclaimed.

With that ever-knowing smile, you had explained,
The significance of memories. Keep them safe, or they’ll fade away.
Fade away! I was outraged. Let them try!
I had challenged. You were mine. No one could take you away.

I lived in the moment, but you had the foresight.
Moments though precious, were of fickle mind.
Value them today, and they will never leave.
Forget them, ever, they’ll forget you, even when you call in desperate need.

Little by little, you put it together.
The song, the notebook and the letter.
Your words sound like those from a prayer.
Precious like your thoughts, warm like your presence.

Angry and broken, I scream.
Into the pillow, it muffles my cries, but cannot stop my tears.
They fall, relentless, like your disease.
it still lives, but they say you are now at peace.

Stay strong you said, as you breathed your last.
For I am always here, not just in days of the past.
Let the memories strengthen you, remember the happy times.
But do not grip them too tight, or else, you’ll never again, take flight.

In my heart you’ll always remain.
Gone too soon, but always near.
I close my eyes and you’re there.
My guardian angel, my lodestar.

Full of memories, happy and bright.
The old shoebox in my room, beckons me at night.
We built it together, you and I.
I still see you, by my side, every time I close my eyes.

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