It is like a fog in my mind,
some force that stops me thinking.
I sit and try to remember
good times I have had.
Old photographs show evidence
that I smiled, even laughed.
I try to recall these times
but the fog deepens.
My childhood is a ghost
half seen, hiding in shadow.
What I remember are not my memories
but stories told through the years.
Friends speak of youth with a twinkle in the eye.
They speak of games, friends, places visited.
I listen with envy.
Older, I feel out of place,
I cannot remember the last
Photographs show evidence,
but photos show only surface,
and fade with time.
Like a Polaroid left in the sun too long
I am losing my color and fading.
I wonder if I was ever really here.