Memories of "me"
You see me sitting in my room,
Alone in the dark, my friend only gloom.
What thoughts are running through my mind?,
Memories of "me" I am trying to find.
In the memory of dreams and with the minds eye,
I hear the sounds of a childís cry.
It is the youth that I once used to be,
Wondering in circles, trying to get free.
No memory left of what children did play,
For many years now heís been fighting the decay.
Just once again to be born unto a world so new,
He must act his age, and canít stand that too.
What kind of price would he gladly pay?
To have his youth back, if just for a day.
To feel the sunshine, and endless summer nights,
The wind in his face as he flies his box kites.
"To hell" with the dreaming, it can never be had,
I have two beautiful children, I should not be sad.
Iíve done and seen so very many things,
Iíve even exchanged wedding rings.
Yet still, when Iím alone in my room,
And the flowers have wilted and lost their bloom,
I canít shake this feeling, that Iíve missed a lot,
Oh well, I guess, itís the only life Iíve got!!!