I scoured through the words,
to tread a poem.
The memories became
the words of my poem.
It flowed like a river,
Old and new, happy, and sad.
But they all came together
To create a poem of my life.
A poem of joy and sorrow,
Of love and loss, of laughter and tears.
A poem of my life,
In all its beauty and pain.
A poem that is still being written,
With each new day that comes.
A poem that will never be finished,
For my life is never over.