Dusty Old Trunk

Just a thought; Why might people live multiple lives in one, then hide some of those lives from their loved ones? Is it always as simple as it seems?

All alone they sit,
waiting,
to be seen once more.
They keep them hidden-
unappreciated-
in a dusty old trunk
in the dusty old attic.

Quietly reliving the days of their youth;
the giddy little girls prancing around,
enveloping the applause, adoring the crowds.
Yet those giddy little girls
no longer shine, but rather
their frail figures die
in a dusty old trunk
in the dusty old attic.

Every costume that glittered in the spotlight
and every pair of shoes that tapped frantically on the stage
lay crumpled and discarded,
their shimmer suffocating from the cruel games of time,
in a dusty old trunk
in the dusty old attic.

As the decades trudged past-
oh, around five or six of them-
all the joy of life seemed to fade.
Was it Mother Nature that stopped the show,
or did Father Time throw away her dancing shoes?
Or was it, in truth, their child Daughter Fear
that turned out the lights
and left the giddy little girls
to wither away alone
in a dusty old trunk
in the dusty old attic?

And during those fifty or sixty years,
while she grew older,
did she ever visit that dusty old attic,
to unlock the dusty old trunk?

No.

For she wanted to hide that life of show-tunes and sheet-music.
This grown woman wanted to lock away the memory of life
not to hide it-
to savour it
for she feared she had so little of it left.

Author's Note

For this piece, don't focus too much on technique, but what do you think of the content and idea?