The Strangers In The Box by Pam Harazim

Come look with me inside this drawer,
in this box I've often seen,
at the pictures, black and white,
faces proud, still serene.
I wish I knew the people,
these strangers in the box,
their names and all their memories
are lost among my socks.
I wonder what their lives were like,
how did they spend their days?
What about their special times?
I'll never know their ways.
If only someone had taken time
to tell who, what, where or when,
these faces of my heritage
would come to life again.
Could this become the fate
of the pictures we take today?
The faces and the memories
someday to be passed away?
Make time to save your stories,
seize the opportunity when it knocks,
or someday you and yours could be
the strangers in the box.

Hiya Daff, I think Clevewyn can relate to this poem

It was he that reminded me of it Deja