poem

                       STRANGER IN THE BOX

         Come look with me inside this drawer
         In this box I've often seen,
         at the pictures, black and white,
         Faces proud, still and serene.

         I wish I knew the people,
         These strangers in the box,
         Their names and all their memories,
         Are lost among my socks.

         I wonder what their lives were like,
         How did they spend their days?
         What about their special times?
         I'll never know their ways.

         If only someone had taken time,
         To tell,who,what,where and when.
         These faces of my Heritage,
         Would come to life again.

         Could this become the fate,
         Of the pictures We take today,
         The faces and the memories,
         Someday to be passed away.

          Take time to save your Stories
          Seize the opportunity when it knocks
          Or someday You and Yours,
          Could be Strangers in the Box