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 . . .