Memories

Memories

Memories sift down from the moment you receive it and blossoms over time.
Memories hold this truth, to what made you extinguish so, your actions, this voyage.
Be it bad, be it good, be it extraordinary, be it what people think of you now.
Be it you share this same connection now.
And you are laughing together.
No wonder we made history together.
Memories are links.
Until that moments relapse and you lay still.
Upon defining you and what we shared during our time.
Of handmade silvery threads that decades even death.

Make a wish before you turn to dust
Never forget

Bee-u-tee-ful, Eccer. This is not a worn-out old love poem. It's fresh.

Interesting you would say love. If that's what you felt from this, then that's the essence I was not aware of myself. It's about a family member. Whom I haven't seen in a long time

I also like this piece- it's very 'old school' with a fresh twist- I got a sense of 'pain', 'loss' and 'grief'- not 'love' per say, but 'love that was lost' which is addicting to read as a writer myself. very nice!

Originally Posted by Eccer

Interesting you would say love. If that's what you felt from this, then that's the essence I was not aware of myself. It's about a family member. Whom I haven't seen in a long time

Hah! You caught me, Eccer! Perhaps I am a romantic! No wonder the poem sounded so fresh, since it was not a romantic love poem. It is a poem about a family member you miss. Thank you for clarifying. In this poem you captured "essence" of a different kind of love/affection, and--in speaking your truth--you allowed me (and perhaps others) to hear your art from another point-of-view. I enjoy knowing the real background of your poem. Thank you.

And because I didn't say it before--"Memories" is lovely.