under a cloudy patch of sky
i buried a wooden box
full of imaginary things

in the places that catch the sunlight
through the leaves of the mango tree
i rested my eyes
left a few thoughts behind

on the staircase with the attic
i found old photographs
remembered that smiles are fleeting
and ran down the steps

in the darkness i heard whispers
of shadows trying to hide
like a dream waiting to fade

the more I hold on
the more I wonder why