The Boxes

Amid the boxes of time past by,
the moving and storages the hurrying and things gone wry,
I found among them the trials of my life.
So many beginnings, faithful I strived.
The stacks of papers, notes and blank pages,
collecting, sorting, down through the ages.
What stories they'd tell being put away,
days and months, years, only to have stayed.
Continuously waiting the owners touch.
Moving again...
Isn't this just too much?
Well, the boxes have all finally landed,
and the confusion began.
First the new ones, no, the old ones.
She ran, ran, ran.
Which ones to go first tossed to one side?
Which ones to stay or go for the ride?
The car was piled high day after day.
The rooms looked bad and in disarray.
But, slowly, the owner each day did one.
And soon the space gave way to more fun!
One more storage, boxes piled high,
sorted, organized, she let out a sigh.
Just one more year I think, she said.
Please mom, don't leave this to us after your dead!

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