The Box

Think of me as a box
Thoughts and dreams I can create, but I am not

I have no color, shape, or size
But clearly you see what is inside

I shaped you into who you are now
And more of me is what you will become

When you start to lose me
You will know
The end is near, and it is starting to show

So keep me open
You may find
Something you thought you had left behind

Hold me tight and never set me free
You see -
I am your memories

(This poem was written and given to me by my very special "Germany friend" - I hope we can see eachother again some day)