The man that I am
The man that I will be
Is but a mixture of memories
From then and now.
Hurt by the bad times,
Missing the good times.
Old scars ripped open,
Old wounds displayed.
Poison rising,
Poison shed.
The pain of remebrance,
Memory lives on.
The cards were dealt,
One hand has been played,
The game goes on.
Copyright 1999
Martin Ferguson