The “Good Old Days” and its forlorn ways
are just my memory’s sterilized haze.
Why so little recollection of past pain?
Most of it was deleted from my brain
flushed down the suffering-drain.
I cannot sustain
all that ugly stain.
Discarded are the chains of gray rain;
a cleansed past is all that remains.

Going backwards in this illusion
is just amplified delusion.
Tracing my steps backwards is not scary;
for there is nothing unknown to be wary.
My mind’s stroll through that candy-land
is void of any hidden quicksand.

Nostalgia is the denial of today
lying that the present is not okay
fearful that I have lost my way.
The past is dead.
And of the future I do not dread.
Instead, I give thanks to overhead
for this precious moment being led
to the everlasting daily bread
knowing my soul is always being fed.

Jeffrey Schmitz 1/11/20