My mind is a labyrinth of forgotten memories,

A garden overgrown with the weeds of neglect.

I stumble upon fragments of the past,

But they slip through my fingers like sand.


I am haunted by the echoes of forgotten faces,

Their names like whispers on the edge of my thoughts.

I try to grasp them, to bring them into the light,

But they slip away, elusive and intangible.


My heart aches for the things I have lost,

The moments that have slipped through the cracks.

I long to hold them close, to keep them safe,

But they are gone, lost to the depths of forgetfulness.


Yet in the midst of this muddle, I find solace,

For forgetfulness is a gift as well as a curse.

It allows me to let go of pain and sorrow,

To move forward and embrace the present.


So I will embrace forgetfulness as a part of me,

A bittersweet symphony of lost and found.

I will cherish the moments I can recall,

And release the ones that slip through the cracks. ("Forgetfulness") by Courtney Weaver Jr.

  • Author: gray0328 (Offline Offline)
  • Published: November 20th, 2023 11:48
  • Comment from author about the poem: I know this poem has some meaning, but I forget what that is.
  • Category: Reflection
  • Views: 5
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