keepsake box

I keep a keepsake of mementos about you at my side.
They’re stored away in a small box,
where you still reside.

The photos with yellowed corners
and tattered edges…
Some are blurry
and sepia toned….

There are recipes
with your handwriting,
every letter perfectly shaped.

And handwritten notes
with important dates.

There’s even a charm
from a place you’ve been.

And a few funny sketches
and scribbles
make me grin.

These are pieces of you
in this keepsake box.

Pieces of your humanity
that I forgot.

But now as I sift through them,
one by one…

I am reminded
of how your life came undone.

One fateful day
it was all taken away.

Your body laid there
in the street.

They didn’t come
to your aid.

They were only there
to raid.

Your humanity
didn’t make them stop.

You were only
in their way,
so they say.

So you paid
with your life.

Yet your mission
was to fight
for her life.

They pushed her
to the curb.

You lurched forward.

They pushed you back.

And tackled you
to the ground.

The shots rang through.

They took
everything
from you.

And all I’m left with
is this keepsake box.

I will keep your memory alive
of who you were.

They can’t steal that too
with their lies.

For every little thing
is here.

And I scatter each piece in the air,
floating, flickering,
for all to see,
all to hear.

Luv must win.
Empathy must cut through.
Compassion is our sword.

This keepsake box
is what I will use
to fight,
to warn the rest….

Because for luv’s sake,
being human first
must be our quest.