My Boxes

It is there,
in the back.
Look if you dare.
No, not in that sack.
Look further into my lair
and lay eyes upon what once
caused my heart such despair. 

Right there, in the nook,
two boxes sit.
Go on and take a look.
Inside each one I have fit
memories of ones who took
the missing pieces of my heart.
Them I will not forget, I must admit. 

The first reminds me
of he who taught me desire.
My heart felt such glee
at the new fire. 
Too blind I was to the fee
my new desire would cost.
Of me, he did tire. 

The other will show
him, who taught 
me what it is like to grow.
True love found was my thought.
Eventually I came to know
this soul, in particular,
was not the one my soul sought. 

I must ask you now, 
does your soul cry for mine, does it match?
Or will you become just a memory, another box in the nook.