A child is going to wake up one morning and say,
"I remember when this used to be fields, there were
gnarled trees and shrubs as small as my hands,
I used to play here
I remember when this was hope and it belonged
to me and you and everyone who was brave enough
to stand up for what they believed
even if they were the underdog
even if they didn't believe in themselves
I remember that forrest,
we built treehouses sincere and laden with the skin
of majestic evergreens, tore holes through the heaven
and got drunk there for the time
I remember when I believed in God and the government
too, because I could feel them in my heart
and not my wallet;
When we used to watch meteor showers mid-summer
from our backyard, didn't give a fuck about the stock market
and our only invested interest was in baseball-cards
and not business cards;
When we broke curfew and kept dreams,
even the small ones
because you don't throw something away
that you might not get back.
I remember when this used to be acres of virginity,
bloomed and blemished - hurried and harbored
and how every tree was cut down
when I was finally able to tell the difference
between right and wrong
I remember when it was okay to cry, to be hurt
and in need of love or a friend, before we got
too old for that kind of thing - to feel
Remember what it meant to play a game?
How winning had nothing to do with the smiles
we wore like our favourite denim shorts,
in case girls were watching.
Remember what it was like to look at a girl
and say, will you be my friend
and not expect anything else besides someone
to jump in puddles with, to grow up slowly
and with purpose?
I remember coming home stained and drenched
in the August rain, being free of it all
without needing to call it freedom.
I remember when my heroes fought for justice
and killed no one, because redemption belonged
to all of us
I remember wanting to be Zorro,
not wealthy or famous.
I remember running clumsily among the willow's veins
passing over the tumbled heap of autumn's farewell,
with a sword that was matched by its rhetoric
I remember being 12 years old and knowing
I couldn't pretend anymore because
I understood what was happening in the news
and what was being said by those
who were supposed to be our heroes.
I know that one day I'll say
'I remember that forest, there were
gnarled trees and shrubs as small as my hands,
I used to play here'
and I won't cry because it's gone -
I'll cry because somewhere, deep and silent within me,
there is a forest that I remember."
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