Poetry

Memories

Her troubled eyes

gaze at the ground

revealing one who

has not found peace

in this harsh world.

She is tortured

by her memories

rushing in then out

of her unquiet mind

the good times

unrecoverable

the bad times

scarring her still.

Forget the past

her friends tell her

live in the present

look forward

not backward

things done are done

and of this brooding

nothing will be won.

Oh, for God’s sake

let the poor soul be I say

for erasing her memories

would be like taking away

the waves from the sea.

                                                              ~Ian Fletcher

                                                                           Cardiff, South Wales

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