Was The Past Real?

Was the past real?

It feels much like a dream.

It feels like the situations

Are not all as they seem.

It feels as if the memories

Are filled with doubt and mystery. 

It feels good to know that the pain softens,

The further I get from my history.

The pleasantness and joy I get,

Remembering the good times,

Is a pleasant and helpful reprieve,

From remembering the bad times.

However, I must admit to you,

The memories seem surreal,
so blurry and cryptic and dreamlike
 as if they weren't even real.

The Laughter of a priceless moment
With friends, family, or both.
Those moments of trial
that furthered my greatest growth.
The football games in the backyards
The video games in the homes
of my friends and their parents who loved me,
more than I could ever know
I often wonder and ponder
if the relics of my past,
and the streets I often wandered,
are there and holding fast,
to a world that is getting crazy
and scarier by the day,
I recall a certain comfort,
I was granted every day
I had a home, a house, a real one
A bed that was all my own,
And friends that would be at my doorstep,
At the call of a phone.
Was the past real?
It is funny you should ask,
The memories are real,
and they are all that will last.