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Shoeboxes
Where do the years go
Are they collected in shoeboxes
High on a shelf
Well out of our reach
I’ve always wondered
If maybe they might’ve disappeared
Dissolving into the universe
As soon as their revolution ticks by
I’ve always wondered
If maybe the years play on
Reliving each day
As sad as that sounds
Over and over again
Where do the years go
How do we lose them so fast
How does time slip away
How does it excuse itself
When we’re watching it so closely
How do the years get away from us
When we try as hard as we do
To secure them in shoeboxes
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This article has 1 comment.
I love the end very much, and it's very true. I've got tons of shoeboxes from old plays, school years... etc. I go back all the time and wonder why I didn't do more when I was actually living them. This poem is golden.
Check out my work sometime, please?
