I Cannot Remember

I cannot remember my very first steps,
My very first word, or my very first laugh.

I cannot remember the birth of my sister,
The day that it happened or anything after.

I cannot remember the first book I read,
Or rather was read to me as a child.

I cannot remember my first day of school,
The things that I learned and the things that I did.

I cannot remember a girl named Brittany,
Whom I was friends with in Kindergarten, but never saw after.

I cannot remember many vacations,
Places near and far that I must have visited.

I cannot remember the very first song,
I played on the piano, nor many right after.

I cannot remember the first story I wrote,
If it was any good, or if anyone read it.

I cannot remember the name of the person
Who sat right next to me in first grade.

I cannot remember my second grade teacher,
Not a name or a face or anything else.

I cannot remember the answers of tests,
The problems in math, or the questions in literature.

I cannot remember what my favorite lunch was,
When I was in third grade.

I cannot remember the phone number of Amanda,
Although she used to call me every single day after school.

I cannot remember when I stopped getting kids meals at restaurants,
But I almost miss the simplicity of it.

I cannot remember the name of any of the teachers,
Who taught me in ISP.

I cannot remember the day I stopped going to Guitar class,
So I could go to the library instead.

I cannot remember the first WAVA activity I attended,
Or any of the people I met there.

I cannot remember the name of my Freshmen Year English Teacher,
But I know that I didn't like her very much.

I cannot remember the name of the girl I lost to at MusicFest last year,
Nor the names of the judges who preferred her songs.

I cannot remember the dream I had last night,
Whether nice, or scary, or regular it was.

I cannot remember many other things,
That I'm sure I can't remember.