Attic

I looked wooden door
Still gaze my way to be back
And my feet
Always take me away from that

I know the box inside
Familiar families there lie
With a picture book of my heart
That too separates my part

I wangle on the dusty wardrobe
To look for my old telescope
With which my eyes gazed the moon
Moony beam and stars random loom

I loop each thread unlocking the door
My feet take me to a place known
My eyes searched for the box only
To leave my world “so lonely”

There’s a toy of gold I played with
My old small cloths I claimed ticked
My school uniform and memories
I roamed around forgotten families

Once again the door is locked
With dead meadows re-alive
They chant their spell like hipnotisation
That I took dusty box in my imagination

~An attic tart
//My heart loves to wander for//