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Little Black Box

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I have a little black box.
And its filled with memories.
Great memories, memories that make me smile.
Memories I wouldn't mind reliving.
And every time i open that box a little peice of me does relive them.
The memories of friends, love, and pure joy.
But today I put a bad memory in that box.
It makes me cry, and regret and a little peice of me dies all over again when I look at that memory.
But I still have to remember it.
Because the thing about memories is...
You can't just erase the bad ones.





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