An Old Poem {A Poem}

There are poems I wrote as a kid

About puppies, dreams and other things

That now sit in an old and dusty box

On a high and forgotten shelf.

These poems, they sit there

Waiting to be remembered and read

But that day is still a ways away

And so the poems sit, gathering dust by the day.

I fear that I am a poem

One of fun times and many laughs

That will soon sit in a dusty box

The box that is labeled “PA.”