Memories, memories
Running thru my head
Memories that I wish would remain dead
Memories, memories come flooding in
Full of heartache and chagrin
Up they come from somewhere
Somewhere profane laughing
Chiding me of what has been
Memories, memories sometimes
Not the best of history that could
Or would have been
Memories, memories that should
Not have been.
Memories, memories wash them away
With happy thoughts of yesterday
Memories, memories.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2013
Would be nice to be able to wash away the bad memories. Bad memories do become less painful with time. I like the repetition. Gave strength to the poem.
Thank you! Yes, bad memories do become less painful with time don’t they? I find too, if I can see something good in that bad, it’ll help wash the bad down the drain and out of my head.