There is a basket that sits on a shelf nearby
Full of ideas that failed as other hopes did die
It holds the remnants of the life that I desired
When time was young and no special talent required.
There in that simple basket rests a thousand schemes
Amongst the fabric, ribbons, needles, plans and dreams
Pieces of wood, paper, cotton, wishes and bows
All of them part of a past that nobody knows.
The basket is silent, it never had a voice
Like those who filled my life yet never made a choice
Each has their secret cache that only they control
And each at last decides what is their final goal !