I would hold on, but it seems there is nothing to hold on to
I would remember but my memories have since aged and succumbed to pain.
The face that was once my mother’s, now just a blur
A smudge, on memory’s coat.
I would remember him, but it seems time forgets
and the mind seeks to erase that which was not common.
I would know him, but it seems fate would not have me revisit history.
The face that was once my father’s, now……
Now I do not remember what he looked like.