Surrounded by memories I often wonder,
Events that may have passed me by,
Facts, figures and myriad numbers,
and realities they may have implied,
For there are but certainly,
things I surely did overlook,
Maybe 'cause I was distracted,
or my heart was a little shook,
Everyday I recollect,
Pieces of my sordid past,
And then begin to re-interpret,
What were the dies that had been cast.
And often I realize,
how my imagination limits me,
as it begins to materialize,
what had been and what could be.
And then it dawns upon me,
how my intentions confound,
my perception of reality,
even when interpretations abound.
I hope someday I'll think things through,
And place them in the correct order,
For it matters not what I see,
But what I provide my mind as fodder.
