Memories are a bane, and yet we like to hold them.

Of times that were to us so dear, and feelings we like to keep.

Of smell, of taste, of touch, of tears

Yet as we remember, we do so fondly.

 

These memories tear me down,

And crush me underneath them

They remind of how it once was,

And will it be again?

I see the change,

I feel the pulse,

I hurt to say I try to be

Back to how it was.

 

She's gone away and come back changed,

Yet by staying here, I have changed.

I'm in a certain plight

That to change it back

Would not actually make it right

Because to look at those memories

Is to yearn for things that aren't.

 

A sense of loss, of personal insult

To slap my face, yet I kick it back

Where it doesn't belong, and I do

Things to her she doesn't deserve.

 

I can try to live in retrospect

Or try  to make it better,

Yet if I live in days gone past,

I'm not for any the better.

 

26 Nov 1986