Unwritten History Poem by Nancy Crossman

A lifetime of memories tucked away,
Protected within secret chambers of my mind,
Each niche locked with a skeleton key
That I clasp firmly to my heart.
Glimpses of my past; my journey; joyful and poignant,
Repulsive and beautiful; momentous and insignificant;
My loves; my hates; my desires; my sorrows;
Realities; forgotten dreams; nightmares;
Some I desire to invoke,
Others I aspire to forget.
Not filed in any particular order,
Random selections are my preference.
Revelations of my own truths,
The who and what of me,
The evolution of my world,
My growth and development,
Who I became; what I learned; when life happened;
Ah! But memories can be elusive.
Sometimes just beyond my grasp,
Scant glimpses of what may have been.
Twisted, tangled moments in time
Caught between pragmatism and fantasy,
They tantalize, torment me.
Unexpectedly, insight blooms like daffodils in spring,
Memories are my unwritten history.
Unspoiled pages,
Only the hands of time have touched.