In my pocket I hold a memory of long forgotten times.
I was once a child wild and free.
I had hopes and dreams, long forgotton now.
I'm now the woman I was meant to be.
In my pocket is a letter, written in love and shame.
A boy, a child wrote it to me.
Tears and wear have made it weak,
and the words too faded, almost to see.
In my pocket, I have to reach,
and put out this long held gift, full of pain.
The night my life changed so much.
Will I ever be free again?
In my pocket I think I find my hope.
But in my pocket there is nothing but fear.
I should pull it out and toss it away.
I've held this pain too many a year.
In my pocket...