Retired Punk

I guess it’s time to hang up the war

God told me to, so I stepped through the door

But I felt remnants of my former self tugging me

Asking “where are you going?”, even calling for me

The Apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree

I’m the rendition of those that came before me

But I can’t lie, I miss being part of the scene

That once carried, cradled, and sheltered me

Is this a proper goodbye?

Probably not, but who knows

I have versions of me I have yet to disclose

But I’m taking steps forward while remaining in tact

Can’t forget who I’ve been, even when holding the map

I wrote this so I could remember me

She could remember me

He could remember me

And they could remember me

Because in the coming days, with what I’ve been seeing

Who the hell knows who else I can be

Sincerely,

Yours Truly