Video Tapes

We only remember the colors of the wind

The sun peaking through trees 

And moments, we believe,

As strong as steel

Slowly become old video tapes

Discarded and damaged

Your memories are scenes

Written and directed by the game

And the worries of tomorrow

The blood rushing to your cheeks

The embarrassment in your emotions

The notion of them floating in 

Your head, taught to keep it quiet

And never live life on the edge

Repressed thoughts and regrets

Were always destined to be 

An old memory played

From an old video tape