Been left alone for so long,
I thought that I was crazy.
The memories I held-
Were sure to be forgotten,
By all the others in them.

And if I'm the only one
That really does remember.
Does it even make them real?
Or would they then,
Just be ingrained,
In my imagination?

That worrisome thought,
No longer relevant.
When you showed up
At my door;
To ask me if I too
Remembered those worn out
Memories.