Random Objects

Random objects hold so much meaning

A cupboard holds all the memories, good and bad.

Ticks the clock and another second shifts by.

A framed painting is a special memory preserved in gold-plated border.

A switch is that part of our emotions we don't wish to feel.

A door is a labyrinth of choices, on the experiences you never wish to relive again, rather turn your back on.

Yet you, you are in all of them,

You are a random object yet the most precious object I own, 

You are the memories I keep locked in the cupboard of my heart, a lock of titanium, the key only with me, a safe haven.

A clock you are, where every second, I see a different side of you and I fall in love with you all over again.

A framed painting is a picture I drew in my head, where I spend every minute with you, lay in your arms, and I call it nirvana.

That switch I use to unfeel the guilt when I ever uttered a word I didn't mean, may have caused a crack in that heart of gold.

And a door, I wish to use on every other remembrance, save you, for you are someone I could never turn my back on.