You go to a museum to see objects of the past.
Things that once were, and now will always last.
To see what made Earth our Earth,
To see what gave humans our worth.

You look inside your mind to search your memories.
This seems a simple task, a feat that’s completed with ease.
It takes more than curiosity, it takes more than that to start,
Looking in your memories for the contents of your heart.

Archives gather dust, as does a precious moment.
They may not look the same, you may not even know it.
But locked away inside those vaults, those cabinets, those shelves,
Are the things our ancestors left us that help us to find ourselves.