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Memories
Where one’s memory originates from depends on whether it is a floatation device that holds you above the water or the anchors that weight you down. Those memories seeded by fear are a constant reminder of the weakness of the mind. Memories of failed choices if used as a road map to avoid the complications that come with repetitive behavior. Then of course there are the memories that bring joy.. weeding through the memories I grasped to hold a few....
the gentle kind days that I shared with you.
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A soul lost at sea, memory, mirage or was it a dream?
Trapped between the earth and sky , boundaries set over time.
In the horizon a haunting true of arms stretched from me to you.
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What’s wrong with a memory?
If I could pick and choose the memories that I hold
I placed the memories with you, they’re the bricks of gold.
I don’t like the counting , the measurement of a day
reminders how distant and how far away.
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Memories those ghastly little reminders of what I don’t have!
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