I remember

Remember when you were small?
And everything was well.
Mom and dad tell stories at night.
Everything was good.
Everything was pure.
You were molding your
Dreams
Out of metal and clay.

But when did it change?
When did you learn to be cynical?
Was it the cold night?
Was it the long days?
When did your parents
Stop reading you stories?

When did you let
Those tiny things slip away?
When did you stop remembering?

But don't chase them.
For you still have
Your
Dreams
Of metal
And clay.

Keep molding them,
For they are all
You have left.
Keep forging them.
And one day,
They will become real.
Then you will look back,
And you will remember.