"Memory is a tenuous thing -
flickering glimpses flashing before my eyes,
each different and changing every second.
BLACK and WHITE . . .
like ancient, decomposing film.
Happiness escapes me there.
Where faces are vague and yesterday seems
to come tied up in ribbons of pain,
blending and fading together as one.
Happiness ???
I've tried to look for it . . .instead,
in today where memory is something
I can still touch, still rely on.
I find it now, in the smiles of new friends,
the hope blossoming inside . . .
My happiest memories no longer have any place
in the past; they are those I have yet to create.