I reached into my pocket

To find my old golden locket

With its old golden chain

That is rusted because of the rain

I had a peek inside

To find a picture of me

With my old friend Lee

I haven’t seen her for a year and a day

Where I saw her at the bay in May

We flew our kites

And rode our bikes

And laughed along the way

I will for sure remember that day

From the picture that I have in my locket

That was in my pocket

With its old golden chain

That is rusted because of the rain

I closed the locket 

And put it back in my pocket

To open another day

By: Ana-Maria Barlin