The Things That Stays

Memories are gentle travelers,
They never truly leave.
They linger in forgotten songs,
In autumn's falling leaves.

They hide inside familiar scents,
In laughter carried far,
In every wish we never spoke
Upon a quiet star.

Love is not the loudest voice,
Nor every grand embrace.
It lives within the smallest acts,
A smile, a hand, a place.

It waits through storms without a map,
Through seasons yet unknown.
For love is not the path we walk,
But who makes it feel like home.

Truth is neither sharp nor cruel,
Though sometimes it can sting.
It asks us not for perfect words,
But hearts that dare to sing.

It strips away the borrowed masks,
The fears we learned to wear,
Until we meet ourselves at last
And find our courage there.

Happiness is not a prize
To chase beyond the hill.
It blooms within the present breath,
In moments soft and still.

It lives in cups of morning light,
In rain against the pane,
In loving what we have today
Though nothing stays the same.

So gather every memory,
Hold every truth with grace.
Love with all your open heart,
And joy will find its place.

For when the years have passed us by,
And time has closed its door,
The things that stay are not our wealth,
But those we've loved, and more.

The memories that taught us hope,
The truths that made us free,
The happiness we shared with others,
And love's quiet legacy.