Do not compare me to the man that I was yesterday,
Last week, Last month, Last year, he is not there,
For all that you are seeing is a memory,
And not the living, breathing spirit here and now.
All growth is hard, all wings take time to spread,
And though there may be comfort for you there,
Locking me into past lives, other ways I once walked,
That person, in reality, is dead.
Rejoice, or not, in seeing all the changes,
Deny him or inspire him as you will,
But do not compare me to that man of memory,
And expect me to reside inside his world.