Bad remembery.

As life used to seem a lot simpler

it was significantly easier to organize,

burdensome years pass impulsively

relatively, right before our eyes.

Before it was like a cottage home

with labeled signs upon the doors,

Now it is like a one-hour motel

hustled and employed by whores.

With all the comings, and goings

practically absurd to try and keep track,

My thoughts would love nothing more

than to live in a one-room shack.

I can remember every detail

the “good-ole’-days” when I was young,

but ask me if I paid the electric bill

you would think I had no tongue.

As simple as looking for your keys,

you now enter another room,

Take that thought, tie it to a log

and just send it down the flume.

I can not rely on my memory

remembering anything, is beyond me,

So much so, I have created a term for

It is now called my “bad remembery”

 

 

© 2018 Joseph Emerson @ WhatsInsideAMadmansHat.com