My little box of secrets,
I keep hidden beneath the bed,
My square little container,
Of purple, white, and red.
When ever I feel lonely,
Or if I'm feeling blue,
I go to my box of secrets,
For another peek or two.
I look at diaries from my past.
Stories of happier days,
A watch that stopped to remind me,
Now is the time to pray.
A gold chain also do I find,
It glimmers in the light,
It always reassures me,
To do what things are right.
A dime in tissues do I have,
And a small piece of granite,
I keep inside to convince myself,
To do Gods Ten Commandments.
An old silver chain laid neatly within,
A rustic locket do I see,
I love the picture I keep inside,
Of Jesus at Calvary.
So my little box of secrets,
I keep hidden beneath my bed,
I guess are no longer secrets,
I have shared them all instead.
Author
Franklin Spriggs
August 9,2008
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem