It
is here,
The
day has dawned,
Time
has passed,
And
the boxes have gone.
Vacant
rooms,
That
sit forlorn,
Devoid
of life,
For
the boxes have gone.
The
floors are bleached,
The
walls are redone,
The
windows are shut,
The
boxes have gone.
The
shelves sit blankly,
Everything
else sent on,
We
are finally leaving,
To
where boxes have gone.
A few
days ago,
In
the early dawn,
They
came and went,
Now
the boxes are gone.
The
times were golden,
Yet
they seem not so long,
But
other things lie ahead,
Where
the boxes have gone.
As we
leave, I look back,
At
our past home,
And
with so many intangibles,
The
boxes have gone.
(This
is quite a sad one, but I penned it the day I moved halfway across the world. I am feeling nostalgic today)
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