No One Can Burn a Memory

In our saddened house we gathered, to bid our Mother farewell, with family finding comfort, in what is an empty shell. But in amongst our sorrow, and pain that has fell within, this will always be the home, my family all grew up in. I recall the warm winter fires, that we sat around at night, when Father read his verse, he often loved to write. Sometimes he would make us laugh; sometimes recite his history, when we listened to his poetry, written for his family. Two days with our broken hearts, we had to gather around, for one further heartache now; our old home had burnt down. Gone, the pages in a senseless ire - his rhyme now ash in the fire. Gone are lyrics; oh - but thankfully, no one can burn a memory. No one can burn a memory. No one can take away the years. They’re with us for ours to keep, even if they come with tears. No one can burn a memory. No one can steal what’s in the soul. Fire will only leave us ashes; but memory’s out of its control. I recall the warm winter fires, that we sat around at night, when Father read his verse, he often loved to write. Gone; the pages in a senseless ire - his rhyme now ash in the fire, Gone are lyrics; oh - but thankfully, no one can burn a memory. No one can burn a memory.