As I look back, I find my life is full of
Things I remember, things I don’t
Things I was told, things I wasn’t
Rooms I have entered
Rooms I never entered
I wonder now why I didn’t ask questions
Maybe I didn’t know the ones to ask
I was young my future was ahead
But now the future is my past, opportunities lost, gone
And there are rooms I never entered
The problem was I always thought
There’s plenty of time to ask questions
Someone will be there to give me answers
Then the clock of time turned
And the answers were gone
I wonder now why it is important to me
I feel I have lived a good life so
Why are a few rooms I never entered so important to me
Will knowing more about my past change the man I am
I don’t believe it will, in fact I am confident it won’t
Yet my children, now all adults, ask innocent questions about my life
And I find myself unable to positively respond, not sure, uncertain, it’s confusing
They know I moved around a lot with my parents, so they seem to understand
But I am often left with my own question. Shouldn’t I know?
Is it time to find the rooms I never entered.