When talking about the past
We often forget about the pain
The worst of days
The sickest of days
The days when we felt like we were at the bottom
Looking only up for any kind of help

History is doomed to repeat itself
But all we can think about,
Even when I think about those pain filled days
Is how they were moments of hurt
Like punches to the midsection
Not knocking you out
But taking your breath
Away

Taking that part
Of the memory
That helps one forget
Darkest moments of
Broken hearts
Broken bones
Broken skin
Broken soul

And we sit and think
About those better days
When the sun shone
And a gentle summer breeze
Rolls warm air
Over closed eyes
And you dream
About the best moments of your life
When your heart wasn't broken