MY MEMORY BOX

I nearly forgot this,
I was allowed to have it for a bit
but my mother was forgetful,
so I kept it.

These memories used to be
in a broken antique box,
now in a straw basket.
Not very honest but I had
to have and keep it.
Such an eye opener:
the most interesting
love letters from my father
and vice versa.
Hers like a shopping list,
his really about love.
This showed the difference
in their characters:
my father caring and my mother
cold like a fridge.

Also it contained letters
from the school of my younger siblings,
accusing my parents of neglect in every possible way.
This was very true at the time but they just
defended themselves and made threats back.
The situation stayed the same:
filthy in the cottage where they lived alone
and without supervision.

All of these boxed memories shocked me.
So I forgive myself this little theft.