A Chest of Childhood

A poem about memories

Rusting parks,

Faded marks,

Shiny stones,

And rhyming tomes.

A worn out toy

From days of joy,

And scribbled writings

For seasonal tidings.

All these things

Like golden rings

Are treasured symbols of parenthood

Locked in a chest of Childhood.

Reviews

[Shasha]

Parks can rust but memories can never. Childhood is the most interesting part of the life. I loved it, short but really very nice and memorable. Reading these types of poems is like dipping my face into memories.