Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Forget It

Times you can't remember,
The most important things,
Forged in the fires of your intimate self,
All while you were sleeping,

They're embedded in the cells of your brain,
As a snapshot in time,
Though they may ne'er be in that state again,
Like the pattern of a splatter of rain,

But the impression e'er will be there,
E'en the shift of a cell,
Guiding your thoughts like water in a groove,
Or like bone by muscle,
Never the same,
Until the next dreams come,
Still, they will not erase what came before,
They can only build on their impression.

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