Rummaging

 
The boxes so brightly coloured
to differentiate its contents
there I must sort my mementos
of the years gone by

I feel so inept with this
hands trembling as I wanted so much
to look at them always and remember
how sweet it was to be loved

with all these books and poems
little things I gathered regardless
of its monetary value
it was all for us

immersed in sweet bitter memories
of what you said and promised
as everything were spilled on the floor
and I had to box it all again

I need to rest them all
and think forward in the years
ahead, without the excitement
of finally meeting you.

* this poem was entered in a competition here. thank you for reading*