In the jewellery box,
The locket he gave her
Lies tarnished.
Old photos gather dust
On the top of the wardrobe
Pushed right to the back.
She turns off the radio
Every time their song comes on;
She takes a different route to work
To avoid passing his house.
But sometimes…
She wears the locket,
Looks at the photo’s,
Plays the song,
Drives past his house
And dreams what might have been
Rachel Flint
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/jewellery-box/
