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Old Memories...

I understand the nightmares
Broken voices of my inner being
Half-whispered dreams of salvation
Only part of the truth that's seen

Wishing cannot make it right
And crying won't do at all
I thrash my bed, the peace of night
Punch holes in the built up wall

You don't outlive your memories
They just change to suit your style
They hang on hooks within your head
Shapeless in too long a while

Drag them out and wear them
Hold them to the light
They're full of holes, you're fat!
And are they really tight?

Are they still full of color
or plain brown wrapped today
delivered by a postman
that looks like you... but old and grey?

Boxes of your life
Plasticize them, keep them dry
And when those "special" days are here
Take them out and cry

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

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author comment

when we r gone no memories shall remain
Gee for me
about you
u know best
take rest
I do a sabbatical
to create a memory

are for taking stock of your life and circumstances. Hmmmm... Circumstances dictate direction or lack of... I have direction, but my focus lies in the past. Wishing and saying; "I could have, I should have, I would have." Thanks for your comment. ~ Geez.
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There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

author comment

The story of all our lives, memories that haunt and comfort at the same time. Staring at one's past is never easy.

for your read and comment. ~ Geezer.
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There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

author comment
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