Let’s drop the professionalism.
I keep asking if you remember me,
Only because sometimes I feel as though I’ve disappeared.
Between the paperwork, the cold calls and missed connections,
Somewhere along the line you want a puzzle piece to fit…
Just once… and it never does.
But you do.
Between traveling, speeches, equations,
And what must be thousands of hours under papers,
You remember the people who actually listened.
You wanted to know the way the world worked,
And so do I.
So do I.