there was an attic

there was an attic
limping/lifted, i crawled the stairs
to find the memories forgotten yet there
yet in this mind’s eye they will never leave for i know them too well;
the roundness of the plastic,
the bucking of the horse,
the little lamb’s words so comforting still

in this attic,
this compartment box opened and sprawled with heat,
in this attic laid all my dreams once given, now taken-placed from view;
is it right to forget that which was so once wanted,
so lived ’til forgotten in fore-given’ess?