The Persistence of Memory

A face stares from beyond the years,

It was a child’s face I thought I knew.

He looked sad to me,

Locked inside with all his fears,

Beyond the space of many years,

Waiting for a friend to set him free.

In the discordant mist of my memory,

He seemed a great deal like me.

I want to tell him now,

In time, all things will be right somehow;

To share with him what I know,

How the closed doors will open as you grow.

When I reflect back on what I felt then,

With no idea as to what I could be,

I see this face, and I know it is me.