Can we form new days out of the ghosts
Of memory? Or is it all lost, forgotten
Left covered in dust blown in over it
By these cold winds of forgetfulness
That cover everything over, eventually
Leaving no trace to be seen by anyone
Casually passing by this once special place.
Only those that know can discover
What lies buried here, after we walk away,
Through careful digging and sifting through
All we left behind, all that once seemed
As though they would become a monument
To some moments taken beyond time
But only became just another grave site.