we cling to the past . polishing our memories . as if they were true
one looks to the sun . the other can remember . the reason it can’t
memories are kept . in disorganized boxes . that run together
on the next visit . the memory may just seem . like it was a dream
capture a moment . commit it to memory . the days do not last
what’s left are shadows . an overlooked reminder . of what used to be
the hidden layers . in every reflection . change with each visit
time that has gone by . is a page that has been torn . from the calendar
blending memories . our history comes alive . a work of fiction
the past is alive . in the memories we hold . precariously
uptown jack 