All we really have are memories.
I have thought of this fact numerous
times, for it is both sobering and
despairing. Every ridicu-
lous material possession is
worthless in the scheme of life. Even
we ourselves are almost meaningless—
we will come to die eventual-
ly, and all that will remain are the
trail of broken hearts we leave behind
and the lingering memories of
us in the minds of those we were loved
by. Memories are all we really
have, even though they are entirely
too unreliable. Our minds sub-
consciously pick and choose what exact-
ly the memories that we dwell on
most should consist of. Memories can
be twisted and morphed; certain feelings
we felt at the time the memories
were made can be magnified or re-
duced. What I can never come to ful-
ly accept is that we don't even
remember most parts of our lives.
YOU ARE READING
Path to the Moon ✓
PoesíaWe are all simply doing everything we can to find our charted path to the moon. © Copyright 2016 by Lily White. All rights reserved.