Backseat.
Right? Left?
Where are we going?
Wandering the streets of New York,
Manhattan, Brooklyn
A familiar face lost in an unfamiliar crowd
Went out for a walk
But doesn't return
He changes as the season do
As it becomes colder, he does too
A father, a grandfather, a husband, a friend,
A doctor?
He's a healer, suddenly confronted with a problem that he can’t fix
And where do I fit in?
Without thoughts or memories, does anything really exist?
I know our relation- he does not
So who is right?
Together, we have memories
Our ability to remember the past is something that we share
Something that I’ll always treasure
His memory
