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thoughts once so clear
now flee en mass like
small birds scattering in the wind...
try to capture one
and it fades to dust in my
trembling hand
my eyes teared up by the loss...
what was her name...
when was it I smiled like the
sun bursting through the clouds on that day...
where did I misplace that long-sought device...
where have all my yesterdays gone...
all escapes along the shifting winds of age
small beautiful birds
plumage so bright and beautiful to behold
loves and laughter, days of wonder and joy
crumble into dust as my forgetful fingers
pry at their edges, trying to recall...
her yesterday was my forever
do you think she remembers me? ...
as I slip into forgetfulness
I hope that I will no longer remember
to mourn my forgotten yesterdays...
age is coming for me
and iv forgotten how to tame that ugly beast
Snipes May 5
Can I exchange
Becomes senses into gain
As my memories fade
My barcodes are renamed
Do these fabrics remain
Can I at least remember your name
Glass Apr 29
I hate you.

I truly, truly do.

But the you I hate, isn't the real you.

It's the you in my mind.

The you I fell in love with, laughed with, grew with, cried with.

Cried over.

I hate that you.

That you ripped out everything, destroyed everything we had built.

In one afternoon.

I don't hate the real you.

I hate the you that you made me see.

The you that you built up and made for me, the wool that got slowly thicker over my eyes.

Until the only thing I could see was what you wanted me to see.

Most of all, I hate the you that took my wonderful wool world away from me.

You've moved on.

Forgotten about little old me.

But it's not that easy for me.

I don't hate the real you.

I just hate the person who fell in love with you.
Someone's story just ended in a
blank page
No goodbyes or tears stain
the margins
An unfinished line hangs on
chapter eight
Haunting words will be this story's only
"Hello" is forgotten where the ink bleeds
"the end"
And the book closed to never continue
Snipes Feb 2
My everything is your nothing
My memory is your territory
Do I miss the bliss
Or do I miss what’s unfinished
Hold me one last time
So I can hold onto us forever
This time
Half my bed is cold
Half my heart is deserted
Half my soul is split
Tell me how I become whole
I’ve dug
I’ve laid
Tell me how I don’t fit in this hole
I’ve graved
Am I the monster
Am I the hero
Am I the reason
The reason for you
I’m the reason
Has company
I want a call
I want a friend
I want a new
But I know
I know the answer
Is bitter more then sweet
I’m sorry
I’m sorry I did this
I didn’t want this
Tøast Nov 2021
I’ve thought about that so many times before,
An itch on my mind like a scratch on the floor.
I’ve seen my face on other peoples memories,
Boxed away in places just out of reach.
It might be my life but it’s just a figure of speech.

A forgotten fallacy, framed through the ages and found in the back room of an old mans house,
Dust blown, leather cracked and spine broken.
Cracked open in two, bent over a knee and followed by the finger.
Put the red ribbon down and let’s talk it over,
Draw a pretty picture and imagine it again.

Where the wind whistles and the dogs howl like stars in the night.
Piercing the black, thick tar in the sky.
Running over clouds and dripping through my mind, thick like treacle but no half as sweet.
My Dear Poet Nov 2021
Today I forgot
the very thing I lost
I forgot I lost it
I forgot what it was

Tomorrow I found
in my memory tossed
what was not there
all along where
it was never lost
What M.C.Escher is to Art
poetry can be
Melody Mann Sep 2021
His memories echo in yesterday's silence,
An abyss of agony singing in her wake,
Forgotten symphonies.
Nat Sep 2021
Sticks and stones
A few words rearranged
Will they outlast the bones?

Everyone forgot
Tarnished marble and time-weathered plaque
Something's just not right
Somebody is not
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