This is a short little poem I wrote a while ago

I have this old suitcase,

Tho it is more of a box with a lock.

It holds all my nail polish from since I was a little girl.

So of course some are old and crusted,

Others look the same from the day they were bought.

I have an old suitcase,

It holds the dreams of the past.

It has the wonders and hopes of a little girl.

I have an old suitcase.