Cleaning out boxes in the garage can be a good thing. Good when you come across a poem that you clearly remember once writing, ever so long ago. The irony of it is that I think I could write these words again today about 35 years later

Alone, feeling cold
Needing to be warm again

Sad, feeling down
Needing to be up again

Scared, feeling lost
Needing to be secure again

Misfit, feeling empty
Needing to be whole again

I am lifeless,
Needing to be born again