That Irish Gent in the Corner, Listen and He'll Talk
Memories... they take on so many forms. Secured in a box rarely opened, covered in dust... Pushed into a corner in a crowded mind... or simply lost. This is a powerful expression of slowly fading memories. It pulls at me... I can't figure out if it's because I relate or because I sense the emotion you've poured into the words... In either case, I enjoyed your poem. Thank you for writing.
This is beautiful, almost haunting. i feel like it's kind of comparing memories to mortal items...Its tragic, but well done.