I struggle now to remember what I was doing
I can't even open this jar, the hands, old and frail
flashbacks of my youth, a wonderfull time
holds the clock back so I can feel another day
the vastness of the universe, has me thinking
Is there another me out there, a clone if you will
wondering the same thing, as I sit in my chair
what would I tell him, that our lives are the same
every minute and hour since birth, we are in sync
or are there many in differant stages of their life
but perhaps they are thinking the same thing
and trying to reach me