You are a safe place
where special things were kept.
You sat on my shelf
every night as I slept.
A silent watcher
the lone sentinel.
"Property of Tasmin" now barely legible.
Precious things I hid in you,
but for when? For what?
Why? For who?

Why did I trust you with my fragile load
when with a little force
one need not know the code?
A flower ring,
a pink heart stuck with glue.
But for when? For what?
Why? For who?

A collection of memories
untouched by time.
Things so forgotten they don’t feel mine.
What did I think hiding it all away?
That you, little weak box, would keep
life at bay.
A map of Disneyland,
a panda carved from bamboo.
But for when? For what?
Why? For who?