Objects Saved

Simple boxes wrapped with simple bows.
White and square, size doesn’t matter.
Boundless emotion caught up,
trapped, then stored, forgotten.
Later taken down,
off the shelf and opened,
let loose on a hot summer night;
restless energy, cooled by the cold rain.
Tears? I think not.
Maybe emotions from a heart ground down,
a mind hoping to let go,
or plain understanding of letting go.
Empty the contents,
screaming in vain around me.
Ride the pitter patter of the rain,
over and over again,
flowing downward,
seeping in upon a parched earth.
Moving past without me,
past my little tidy white boxes with tidy bows.