I’m rifling through the pockets in my mind
Searching and scouring every nook and cranny trying to remember
Searching and scouring every nook and cranny trying to remember
Where did I put it? Where is that old box?
For inside that anciently aged box holds a book
The book that captivates my childhood years within it
Throughout my years I have entrusted many memories into that box
Why is it whenever I need it or want it I never can find it?
My mind is a mess, cluttered like an abandoned attic
My mind is a mess, cluttered like an abandoned attic
The longer and harder I search, the more I am engrossed with defeat
A light bulb flickers on Hastily I race to my closet Tripping and foundering over my other unsuccessful search attempts
Hope and optimism engulfs me
I stumble faster towards the door handle
Turning it quickly I whip open the door
Piles of boxes tumble out around me as I sort through them
Where is it?
I rip open box after box praying I finally found the right one
The one holding some of the best years of my life inside its aged pages, forever
Optimism drains out of me as I sit and ponder
Where is my yearbook?
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