Memories

The jar was a wall
Protecting the memories
It hides in memory lane
Snatching the ones that are needed
Keeping them guarded
Forever more
The remains are dense
Unlike how they used to be
Before the storm
Smells of the ocean breeze
The wind whistling
As it weaves its way through
When the dark storm came
It broke our hearts
Who knows if they will ever be the same
Makes me feel like I’ve always got something to fall back on
Crisp
They appear not to matter
It never will
It’s what’s on the inside that counts.