Don't grieve alone; 14,000 members and growing
I wonder what I truly remember after all the times I reminisce.
Could it be true memories,
Or just skewed visions amiss?
Sometimes I remember swinging in the back yard,
kicking my legs up all the way to the sky;
You'd be right there next to me,
smiling, soaring past heavens guards.
Sometimes I think,
this pretty time-captured moment
should have been a big little hint;
Like one of those badly added foreshadowing
plots in the books my teachers taught me about.
Other memories of the past aren't so crystal clear;
I think I could of fused some together too,
With that sticky little thing called grout.
Sometimes I wonder what I actually remember,
and if what I remember is you.
I guess it doesn't really matter,
as long as the I think they're true.