COME, LOOK WITH ME INSIDE THIS DRAWER
IN THIS BOX I'VE OFTEN SEEN,

AT THE PICTURES, BLACK AND WHITE
FACES PROUD, STILL, SERENE.

I WISH I KNEW THE PEOPLE
THESE STRANGERS IN THE BOX,

THEIR NAMES AND ALL THEIR MEMORIES
ARE LOST AMONG MY SOCKS.

I WONDER WHAT THEIR LIVES WERE LIKE
HOW DID THEY SPEND THEIR DAYS?

WHAT ABOUT THEIR SPECIAL TIMES?

I'LL NEVER KNOW THEIR WAYS.

IF ONLY SOMEONE HAD TAKEN TIME
TO TELL WHO, WHAT, OR WHEN,

THESE FACES OF MY HERITAGE
WOULD COME TO LIFE AGAIN.

COULD THIS BECOME THE FATE
OF PICTURES WE TAKE TODAY?

THE FACES AND MEMORIES
SOMEDAY TO BE PASSED AWAY?

MAKE TIME TO SAVE YOUR STORIES
SEIZE THE OPPORTUNITY WHEN IT KNOCKS,

OR SOMEDAY YOU AND YOURS COULD BE
THE STRANGERS IN THE BOX.

ANONYMOUS AUTHOR