Given Voice

The magician that is memory,

listens to old laughter,

remembering rudimentary lessons

that were taught but never learned,

teases the dreams from an alternate reality,

and feeds them into recollections,

making it impossible to discern

where the myth fades, and the man is earned.




I wake to children crying,

and you walk in to my world,

or I wake to find that I

am in yours, of course,

I am never certain

which reality truly exists,

I resist the urge

to purge my eye of the tears

the years have collected,

all this time, I have protected

myself from what must never be