Shoe Boxes and Boats
Snapshots of an unheard song
In sequestered shoe boxes somewhere sits the saddened shuffled snapshots of smiles seldom seen.
Memories masqueraded merrily, the marooned memorabilia that melted in mimicry misbelieved.
The forgotten forgeries faded fastly to the former fraught to be framed, as fakely formed faces fall to false familiarity.
Thoughts of a boat, a dock, a chain alive with vivid imagery.
A life, a home, a bonding, of each thought respectively. All must be present to weather the deadly storms upon the sea.
A boat remaining dockless will surely be cast at sea, and the bonding chain will fail with a rusted forge dampened by the futures’ missing dreams.
A dock needeth neither boat nor chain, it waits upon each in need. With time, it too shall be blighted, unkept, as its boards in time will rotten despite its dire need.
But given life, a boat, a home, a dock, the smallest becomes forgotten. Absent the chain’s bonding, only then to know the feeling of reaching rock bottom.
In sequestered shoeboxes somewhere the snapshots cease to gather memories. Time is no healer, but a false prophetic liar, as muffled within the crowded aisles the sound falls to silence, from the voice of the lost Siren, in unheard whispers of the missing song.
