Memory of the mind, if thoroughly thought of,
Is profoundly large and vast.
Some call it a sea of sands
Each thought a grain to last
The test of time is but digging below
The new thoughts for the old
Some useful some destructive
And some survive for naught
Details can be fastened
With bits and shards of shells
Pieces broken, fitting in
To spaces needing fill.
Feet are bare and easily snare
The texture of these beads
Visions speed on through the mind
Of times dead and deceased
My most loved and hated times
In the pockets of regret
Where lint collects to blend the times
With inner fray and fret.
Done! It's past and over with
What more need I of time
Gone and left as even now
I live this line in rhyme.
To breathe, to live
Without a choice, I'm walking in my mind
Those tired feet move bittersweet
In decadence; in grime.
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Submission Name: Nostalgia, Queen of Bittersweet
