I am told I'm just a memory of everything I've done,
of every street I've walked down…
of battles lost and won.
I am also told this memory is all I'll ever be,
just a glancing thought in someone…
a burst of energy.
But if I'm just a memory of everything I know,
what about the rest of me…
the part that lives and grows?
There has to be a meeting place where energies collide,
where mind and soul and body…
don't run away and hide.
My memory is a part of me but I am so much more
I am the little boy who smiled…
while walking through each door.
I am a brother and an uncle, a father and a son
and so much more than memories
of those battles lost and won.
