Return Piece

A forgotten cycle


I’ve found the place of forgotten memories
Piled over a deathly land of loneliness
Hidden by the tears collecting and covering
Over the horizon

Random, dissembled parts of memories litter the land
As I attempt to assemble my own from tossed and trashed
Memories that were later replaced by better ones
Having none of my own, I struggle to share the stories

Told by the assortments of airplanes and teddy bears
Covered by the dirt of loneliness, yet still holding on to
The emotion, like the love notes of childhood sweethearts
Carefully folded and fondled with until better ones come to pass

Filling my hands with the memories I wish to use as my own
I sculpt a life of lessons, lined with pain and suffering
Stringing together stories willing share with anyone passing by
But soon the dust kicked from the dirt of loneliness cover my stories
Left in the piles of forgotten memories as I search for better ones
Forgetting the forgotten memories

i dont really like it- i dont know why-

"Stringing together stories willing share with anyone passing by"

i get the feeling that is true with this poem- and it seems like you are talking about time passing and getting old, and thats a too well-covered topic, everything profound has been said, maybe i'm way out but... is ok-

outtahere funk