When we reach a certain age where we find ourselves looking back at all the tears, all the laughter, and all the joy, we also discover that those memories are what keeps us holding on.
This poem originally was published in Poems on Life
|Hidden in the attic,
all the way upstairs,
is something very special,
that I would like to share.
of good times and bad times that make me laugh.
The joy of a hug,
the thrill of a kiss,
leaves me to remember the pure, simple bliss.
I cry for the fun,
and giggle for the pain,
I enjoyed the good life I was able to maintain.
The thoughts and wishes,
they all stay with me,
all of these contained in my book of memories.