In a heart-shaped box, a mother keeps her children’s teeth

Opening it on a daily basis, wiping and feeling sad beneath

Her lost memories and endless thoughts, of hugs and smiles

The mind gathers past moss and worries, going for miles

The faded pictures of wooden toys, and spinning metal tops

Ancient darkened photos, of her grandmother and ole pops

Where did my babies go, she wailed every night before bed

Little did she know that there was no children, only in her head