Biographical Poetry posted August 12, 2013 |
A poem, no specific form
My memory box
by robina1978
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. |
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Many thanks to Moon willow for the applicable photo.
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