The persistence of memory is only a vague piece of the whole
Holes fill the portions that can be recollected
Collections of times, people, places, and things,
Things which at one point were so clear
Clarity was almost tangible
Touching on the past visions after so long
Time refuses to cooperate with the development of thought
Thinking of past endeavors now seems incomplete
Completing the memory seems so close within grasp
Holding the vision in mind is all that can be done
Finishing the image can be a task for another day
Days, weeks, months, years,
Time melts, faces fade, and scenes diminish
Disappearing…but small fragments always remain
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