If the house goes up in flames, once Jamaica is safe, I'll go back into the inferno for my memories. Some of the best ones are old. Really old now. The real memories, of course, are in my heart, not some file cabinet.
Now, I never smoked and I'm just not much good at drinking. I have put this old heart through the wringer, though. It's been broken so many times that I'm not sure it will ever be right again.
That's alright. I've got t shirts that I haven't worn in twenty years because I worry about wearing them out. I've gotten really good wear out of the heart.
There are little pieces missing but it serves me well. Sometimes I wonder if I've loved just to have something to sing about.