Memories are movies,
That play back in our minds,
Parts of the tape will fade,
And moments disappear,
Collections will get smaller,
When your heart tends to forget,
But reminiscing of the past,
Will renew the scenes,
That have long been discolored,
But don't be discouraged,
About the classics people neglect,
All you have to do,
Is say one line,
So the actors remember the script,
Of the conversations through time,
Our mind is a theater,
That shows productions,
So you don't forget,
All of the scenes you've lived,
And the dreams you've dreamt,
We are all the directors,
Behind the stories of lives,
Writing the manuscript,
That will forever be your story.
YOU ARE READING
Who's Heart is This Anyway
PoezieJust some poems that I come up with on my own time... Here's a sample of one in the book: We were a kaleidoscope of colors, Twisting and turning, At every possible moment. A new masterpiece at every view.
