We used to laugh when poor old Mum
Would call me “Eve-Dor-Fran”.
She wasn’t old (about my age!)
When first it all began.
But now I’ve come to this same state,
I’ve realised the brain
Is not some great computer
That gets left out in the rain.
It’s just a giant dumpster
For the things we learn about.
We throw in scraps of knowledge,
But it’s never emptied out …
And then, as we grow older,
The dustbin gets so cramped
We have to root around in there
For any thought we want.
I know if I search long enough
I’ll find my marbles there.
They’re packed away so carefully,
But I can’t remember where …
So if you take a longer time
To latch onto some thought,
Remember, it’s your dustbin mind
Through which you need to sort!