Though continuous, time does not let us forget
Small reminders of life we thought had passed us by

A voice can make us turn without our knowing why
A glimmer of a tone we once knew

A routine action can suddenly hold meaning
A time spent together we thought to be a passing moment

Perhaps we live too slowly
We allow our past to bring us to a standstill
To make us question that which we cannot undo

Did we do enough?
Or did we leave undone what mattered most?

Did they know?
Or did we forget to tell them how much we cared?