We are who we are not who we were

give me hope
in a head creased pillow,
folded paper lines
in cold dust grime
branded as skin in lime –
where street lamps dance
between speech and thought,
old memories sold,
new ones bought
mumbles grumble
at lessons we’re taught
through battles once fought
in freckled spaces in time

watch them drift
as mist over fields
disappear like wraiths
fade as muffled dreams

we aren’t who we were
we don’t do what we did

We are who we are
and we do what we do
we don’t try to please
we aren’t who you knew