I found my past,
Behind an old cardboard box,
Covered with webs,
And centuries of dust.
A rusty key for a door,
That’s long since forgotten.
A fading photograph of a,
Distant relative lost after a war.
A yellowing newspaper,
Revealing a family torn in two.
A crumpled love letter,
Stained by tears and coffee,
It spoke to me of things.
That root me to floor.

©  Nick Strong 2014