There is a box that I keep

With all my stories that never sleep,

A Deck of cards that foretell the future,

And all my memories I have yet to suture.

These three things, I hold dear

But sometimes, I let them out so I can hear

What they say when I’m in fear.

Tucked away are some phoenix wings

Which I hold with so many things

To help me rise from the burning ash

From every fall, scrape and lash.

So here I am, laughing now,

Saying time and time again asking how,

How is it that I was just kidding.

Hey there, Curiose! You might want to ask a Designer (the moderators of this sub forum!) to move this to the Poetry section. It's up to you, though.

Anyways, m'name's Sato and I'm just popping in to say that I really like this little piece. When I read it, I thought of childhood innocence in a new light. All those little things and treasures we keep with us, that we lock away, are what saves us when it all comes crashing down. I love the imagery of a phoenix. Fire. Rising from ash.

I'm getting a theme of play as a child pitted against play when you're an adult and people are much more prone to demanding the why of certain things. I dunno. What was your intent with this piece?

-VV

Certainly, certainly. I will definitely ask to have it moved.

When I write, I usually have no intent. I just write what I feel. If I have something planned, then it never goes as planned. Freewriting is what I do, to keep the thoughts flowing-- like a release. But as I reread it, I realize that yes, it does seem to have that childhood innocence pitted against adult play.

I would like to think of it as empowering, almost. Everyone has their ups and downs, but every person has things that they hold dear that pick them up. Their thoughts, their memories, small trinkets.

Hey Curiose! In the time since I posted this, I was actually returned to the Design team, so I just went ahead and moved it for ya.

Keep posting!

-VV