Garrett J. Henninger Poem by Moth Harris

There’s a handful of memories
And things I’d like to keep
Not all the things you never see
Or the times that we weep

We climbed the trees where we lost or dignity
and as you swung from the branches
I rhymed with my pen and ink
and further into this memory we sink

Winter came fast and died with the leaves
I guess it’s up to the blind man
To see what he believes
Because we’re all as blind as he
Or at least I was

There’s a handful of memories
and things I’d like to keep
Not the times where I had to bleed
Or the things that make us weep

The branches did brake and threw us on the ground
What the chainsaws didn’t take is where we were found
and I’ve been wondering lately if there was more that we could do
but I’m so lost when it comes to you

Summer melted away the frozen air
I guess we melted away too
but you didn’t even care
So why do I care about you
Because I still do

There’s a handful of memories
and things I keep at heart
Like the friendship I used to have
Before I tore it apart