Box of Memories

Under my bed my little box hides,
Holding the memories close to me,
Each letter, a caffeine buzz,
Like a high, if you must,

From days I cannot remember,
To those I cannot forget,
The letters lie there waiting,
Waiting for my return,

Nan calls my name from the tropics of Queensland,
Melted snow stains letters from the snowy blues,
Movie tickets chant daunting soundtracks from the cinemas,
But they all call my name,

This box is not full yet,
There are still memories to make,
And when it overflows,
We build a dam to hold the feelings back.