I cannot remember the books I’ve read,
Dialogues and details have left my head
Only blurry, in the end, they remain
Never to be truly recalled again;
Neither can I the things I have eaten,
Only remnants of some beloved tastes,
Eaten with my heart, oh so pure and chaste,
Which my palate had for long forgotten.
I can’t remember the things I have said
So many lines spoken in this long play
Where I’m the main actor since my first day
Living my role ’til I’m finally dead.
I cannot remember the moments I’ve lived
Only fleeting images, sounds and smells
Of love and tears, and feeling my heart swell,
Even so, they have made me. I have thrived.