Do you remember?
Just a few years back,
I was in a middle class,
the shortest of the lot…

Do you remember?
When everything was maybe not simple,
but it all made sense?
Back when R-E-S-P-E-C-T wasn’t just a song.

Do you remember?
Sitting in a circle and making beats together,
back when we were all friends AND family?
When music is a way of life?

Do you remember?
A sweet little girl, not even 13?
A hyper tiny dreamer and her dingy alto sax?

Do you remember?
The music we played,
and the songs we sang,
dancing around our heads like Apaches?

I am remembering…
A time where dreams became reality,
because we made it so.

I am remembering
a time when that dingy alto sax
was equal to a bit of cash
on the street corner, if you played well enough.

I am remembering
a time when there was no such thing as being “fake,”
because labels didn’t matter
unless it was your name.

I don’t want to remember…
Was I a fist-fighter?
A rebel?

I don’t want to remember…
I was younger,
my dad was abusive,
our tears filled that fire’s hunger…

I don’t want to remember,
how even when I was bad,
I was good,
a vigilante for the weak.

You see,
it’s these,
these memories,
ghosts of the past that make us who we are.
We learn, live, and grow.
That was yesterday,
but what about

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