Memory meanders
through but vague images
the mind forgets much
only some it remembers
that which is deeply embedded
whether such be suffering
sorrow, pain, love or joy
in part imagined, convoluted
magnified, exaggerated
but still unknowingly accepted
never to be forgotten
as the rememberer is trapped
in the dark corridors
of the sub-conscious
in strange reverie wrapped--

and where do I stand
in this scheme of things?
it would be better
it does seem
to remember to forget
and forget to remember
the past to put to sleep
and life will then assume
a fresh new slate-
to be a child in innocence
where all the woes of living
have all taken
their disappearance