Memory
Distant but ever neighbouring,
Misplaced though ever familiar,
Distinct though somewhat vague,
Absent but always looming.
To define would be nothing but foolish,
For meanings, it shares many.
Burdens, forever rest upon its aching shoulders,
Of that of previous happenings,
In ones harried lifetime.
Others can hold contentment,
Grief and loss,
Friendship and loyalty.
Hushed secrets of the past,
Pending stories of the present,
And probable tales of the future.
Copyright © Rosie Richardson | Year Posted 2012
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