That None are Lost

One day when I'm old will I remember this day?
This day of youth and innocence as the skill queue ticks away?
One day when I'm old what remembrances will hold sway?
What things will I say used to happen this way?

When the day comes that my skills are a solid wall of blue,
When level five isn't new and I don't remember another way.
That day when I'm old and expierence holds sway,
of my thoughts and my responses as I look at each day.

Will I remember the time when that first billion was made?
Will I remember the joy the first time I can fit,
Something for a ship that I've dreamed of taking a trip
To a part of space that was known but never seen before this day?

Will I remember the stars as they flicker in space?
Will I remember the day I didn't know of this place?
When my engines cool down to a sullen glow,
Will I remember all the things that I once did not know?

Will I scream, "Get off my lawn!" As the rookies zip by?
Or will I swat them from the sky with less thought than a fly?
And when my fleets goes by will I remember times I once flew,
Where I looked at the sky with awe?

Will I be able to savor anew the familiar and sweet?
Or will I be dulled by bitterness too deep,
To remember the joy of going to fly,
and of roaring through space without a care if I die?

One day when I'm old will I remember these things?
Will I remember the excitement that each new day brings?
And if I have one wish that I might ask of the future, be it what it may.
I will ask when I am old to remember this day.

(Cellphone poetry)