How can I keep these wanton memories,
That every night I sleep come and rob me.
When will there be a chance to halt,
To live without wandering endlessly.
My time is now something I watch,
That reminds me to sit down and stop.
Closing my eyes between then and now,
I think of all the places I belong.
But one memory is too happy to allow,
I must shake my head to clear it out.
The temptation of a second look,
Only avoided suddenly and somehow.
My memories, painful and no good
Part like the pages of an old book,
And all I can do is look,
And all I can do is look.
