Ah, memories, capriciously you choose
Such wondrous moments worthy to retain;
Important things, so oft' you're apt to lose,
Yet how you cling to those that brought us pain.
You offer but a glimpse of yesteryear,
And fill the gaps, with things which might have been,
So oft', we find it's never truly clear
If what you show was real or but a dream.
How can we trust that what you say is true,
When all we know is what you choose to share?
Do you record the tales of things we do,
Or conjure up our stories from thin air?
        Without you, all my past would cease to be --
        My life is naught but one long memory.