Oh Memory.
How you haunt me
I know your there
so I can be free.
But what are you?
but a memory?
I think back
and I cry
And I know why…
So much pain
I’ve been torn asunder
death and blood
the sound of thunder,
Broken bones
Broken teeth
broken me,
All in memory…
What have I learned
you ask? You see?
I’ve learned to take
my memory to task
woe is me…
Because it’s nothing more
than a memory
It’s there
so I can be free.
MY MEMORY.
Luna's world of Beauty, Hopes & Dreams 
A very good message here, that I myself have recently been learning. Thank you for sharing your piece, Luna. ~Queen
truly magnificent….
Our memories are part of us, they make us who we are … but sometimes we have to stop and remember that they are just that, memories, and remind ourselves that we are free. A beautiful write, I feel the hope within it. Enjoyed, thank you. 🙂
Recurring traumatic memory can imprint itself in our very fibre. How does one move on? I don’t know….. Try to live in the moment I suppose and give thanks for it. Your poem expresses this so well.