A Box

There he carries a precious box A precious box hided somewhere invisible Full of articles but not to read Full of write ups can be told The box is a beautiful one Lot of carvings and ivory color Sometimes the color is changing to red And the box is full of precious gifts The world him the the gifts to keep And carry over to the life hereby There when the end comes the box becomes empty The precious article being the memories of past Some in miserable way he obtained Some in happy way he earned The box is a beautiful one in look The carvings are the truthful worlds of life There the box is invisible to others The precious one he keeps together always.