When we close our eyes to remember
We rewrite our past in our own image
And make it into something astonishing,
We create our own myth,
By taking what was once real
And transforming it into what might have been,
What nearly was,
What should have been.
Our daily life is riven with the past.
We are who we are
Because of who we were,
Who we attempted to be,
Who we imagined.
As we stare through the fractured glass
At that distant stranger
We see what we want to see,
Mould what we hope is there,
And believe what we need to believe.