We all have them,
mine are packed,
stacked, buried away
in my closet,
the half torn shoe box,
rebox, running shoes once
now it holds my past,
my photographs,
seeing the familiar faces
but one calls and holds my eyes
it is of You, when we knew each other
not quite the beginning, mid way
still happy and your eyes were hiding
you used to smile, but was it ever for me?
I'm beginning to think,
You knew that that day was coming
Then you told me,
and I watched you go,
another life ago.