INNOCENCE

I found a box today.

An old box, crammed in the dusty attic,

Covered in spider-webs and muck.

I tried to open it

But it was so rusty

I had to pry the lid up

And it creaked and squealed.

Dust rose in a cloud to meet my eyes.

I squinted, gazing into the box

And nearly fell back.

It was something I had lost

Long ago

Something I never thought

I would find again.

A shard of my past

A piece of the shattered memories

A broken fragment of my life.

It was as pure as new snow

And as lovely as an angel's wing.

It seemed so alien to me

Because I had forgotten it.

Though it was marred

Scarred by deformity

Wasted by misuse

Torn by exposure

Aged by time's decay

Rent by cruel words

Discarded like a used napkin

I saw it with new sight

And plucked it out

My hands trembling.

It felt so light in my palm.

I had never expected to see it again.

I had thought it was lost forever!

What was it, you ask?...

INNOCENCE