Souvenirs
Among the souvenirs
I treaded,
Through memory spun cobwebs
and wicked repartee,
Surrounded by remnants
of the past,
Never once remembering.
Overwhelmed
by lingering soul prints,
my sighs erased the dust,
Beneath a coat of armor
I found a heart
embedded in rust,
I started to remember . . .
some things are better left
Untouched.
Through the stained brash mirror
I saw no one
stare back,
There was no tangible evidence
of any former being,
Only the essence had remained,
all the while
Remembering . . .
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