Silly memories

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Oh these silly memories,
where have they gone.
I don't remember how I got so worn.

Oh these silly memories,
who are you again?

Silly memories,
why are you holding my hand?

Oh these silly pictures,
grey and old in my head.
Tarnished old pictures,
I wonder if they are dead.

Silly damn memories,
what happened to me.
Where are my children,
do I have siblings?

Oh these silly little memories,
what is your name again?
I am sorry I forgot again,
now there is rot again.

I lost my thoughts again,
why am I here again.

These memories again,
full of cemeteries again.

I hear the children,
incendiary pilgrims,
dancing harlots and
surprised homeless.

Why are my hands so,
blood really stains sandstone.

I don't recall
when asked though.
I only remember when
in the throughs.

Grace you say?
Care to relate?
Can't breath?

Oh these silly memories though,
I am addicted to them you know.
How did you die?
I cannot lie, another must go for us to know.


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7 comments
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No! The memories are not silly; they blind you with their relevance. Sit in the dark and think of yourself as a knight on a white, white horse. Think of yourself, and things might be different.
Anyways, this is magnificently evocative and heartbreaking to witness. 🥲

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Thank you, can I be the black knight? they just seem cooler haha. !PIZZA

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(Edited)

Addicted to memories... hmm... while being reminiscent of joyful times is uplifting, dwelling on the lows is counter-productive to life's progress unless we are processing new thoughts about old things and using the stimulus to effect change inside our head and heart. If one keeps finding oneself circling back to old ground, without experiencing forward progression and resolution, perhaps the journey is not yet complete and the job is not yet done. Some interesting perspectives are shared in this poem. I'd love to see the positive flip side to this as a complementary peace (sp sic)! !LUV

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Hehe and all I thought maybe it was some serial killer with a type of Alzheimer's, you are much deeper than me !PIZZA

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