So that memory persists...
But I can't waver from
The feeling I get about resurrection.
How does it all begin anew
With such long history at play?
It never could. But it would take
One hell of a renewed sense of purpose
To propagate that dead matter.
No amount of endless pavement,
Nor bright lights, nor fantasy
Could create some of the moments
That were simply natural.

Maybe we just didn't know what we had.
I don't understand my time,
And you we the best filter.
Like the whole damn world
Didn't make sense, unless I asked
You first.
All that is gone now. The bitter
Memory persists, but we can't get back.
I could be closer but I'll not try.
I'll stay on the sidelines because
I'm afraid I can't take it again.
Fucking fear.