Pictures given up to scrapbooks,
Letters stored in boxes or drawers;
A dried flower, petals tattered,
Mementos of memories shared.
All in neat compartments,
Folded away in our mind's corners;
Hidden, viewed at whim,
Wrapped securely in melancholy.
A scent, a song, a place,
Gives life to old emotions;
Regret, sadness, warmth, pain;
A tenderness, as yet not healed.
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