How sad it is that the memories
that are made in youth,
the ones untainted by race, hate,
fear, caution, sex, money...
how sad that it is those that we forget.
No recollection of a time before time,
when every moment was important for play,
every second did not want to go wasted.
Whether by the slow decay or age,
or by the new memories made,
it seems that all that is light and free
has simply gone away from me.
SK
