You tread the worn paths
Of oft recalled memories

Though now they appear
Strewn with roses.

Carefully you pick up a stem,
Wonder where the beauty came from.

Suddenly a prick;
Blood floods the vision.

Stripes appear ragged in form.
A scene that’s just out of reach.

Lenticular images vacillate
As you reach for connection.

The empty room begins to crowd,
You can hear the laughter.

You take the less traveled exit
Taking care not to taint another memory.

Remember, don’t forget:
There were roses.