Some People Are Too Busy for Memories


Some people have little need for memories,
They’re eager to rush into the future,
They have yet to face the truth of living,
They don’t know memory plays funny tricks,
And with mistakes, memory is not forgiving,
Memory shades everything to suit one’s need,
And alters the truth to fit,
A lie becomes more bold than the truth,
If the situation calls for it.
Selective memory, what good is that?
When everyone wants reality to know,
And truth, which can be crushed by the weight of a lie,
Will determine the direction they go,
Painful moments of stress or death,
Memory often stores out of reach,
Until there’s a relationship that they want to build,
And seemingly out of nowhere,
Those painful moments slide into the breech,
Memory will gnaw upon all their future trees,
And drag them back to silent pond,
And moment by moment their past life squeeze,
Until each scene dances before their eyes,
Warm memories and painful thoughts,
Wait to rise up and be emphasized,
Although a memory can be a battering ram,
Memories make me who I am,
As I connect the strands and patterns of time,
Some people have little use for memories,
But I’m glad that I have mine.

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