Sometimes, wondering how things changed,
I look for patterns of light and shade.
Pencil on paper to crayon on wall,
I trace my way back before the fall.
Sing, memory, soothe my worry,
carry melodies long unknown.
Most times I can’t make the journey.
Sing, memory, lead me home.
Walking alone past the trolley track,
drugstore-bound for the spinner rack.
Happily sad as the days grow cool,
pale gray skies and it’s back to school.
Standing at dawn in the spitting rain,
dreading the bus and those laughs again.
Sing, memory, soothe my worry,
let me lie here content, alone.
Most times I can’t make the journey.
Oh, memory, lead me home.
Sunday bells play a mornful hymn,
stained glass virgins and seraphim.
Black of night and there at my bed,
a guardian angel points at my head.
Sing, memory, soothe my worry,
sing the melodies now unknown.
Most times I can’t trace the journey.
Oh, memory, lead me home.
Pencil on paper to crayon on wall,
I trace my way back before the fall.
Sometimes, wondering what went wrong,
I catch an echo of childhood song.
Michael Macrone is an author, Web developer, graphic designer, and recording artist based in San Francisco. He is currently the Chief Technical Officer of Publishers Marketplace.
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