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Shoeboxes

I keep old shoeboxes on a shelf located
at the deepest darkest part of my closet.
I don't open them, I don't examine them,
and I'll never ever move them... they'll stay forever bound.

As I've aged the stack has grown considerably in size,
slowly, not by much, and always in it's own time.
Always they remain the same... closed, stacked neatly,
on a shelf, in a place where others can not find.

I often think of opening them, yet once more, to examine
their contents and ponder if they were worth my time.
But I never do, I simply remember why they are there,
cherishing always the memories of days and nights gone by.

I have not placed a box on that shelf in a long long while,
yet the memories they hold still linger, forever on my mind.