when i was supposed to be
asleep, i found myself glancing
at pictures of not-me,
at their pre-grad lives, dancing
through the times, as if eternity
was a true thing.

and it made me wonder
at all the unfinished works
hindered, forgotten, cast under --
bottled by a stubborn cork
dreams torn asunder
and forgotten.

yet despite the plans that failed
truly, what appeared in its stead,
a quiet, long and winding trail
a story uncertain, unknown, unread
emboldened, and gave a soul unfrail
and ready to not forget.