Anna Hopper Poet Rhyme

Lies We Believe

The past is always perfect
The future, always best
The present, we, neglect
We speak of happiness

We talk of better days
And wait for better times
We wish our lives away
Then find, we can’t rewind

We look back on our moments
With a biased recollection 
Forgetting all components 
A fraction of a section

But this is how it goes
The way the cookie crumbles
A truth, I’ve come to know
A fact, on which, I stumbled

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Daniel Turner February 7, 2020 at 3:29 PM The older you get, the worse it gets.

Rico Leffanta February 5, 2020 at 12:42 PM Well thought and executed! Aloha! Rico

Richard Lamoureux August 4, 2019 at 9:35 AM What a wise young woman. I will lie and say I am not guilty. Hugs Rick.

James Horn August 2, 2019 at 5:26 AM Did you did the cookies into Poetry Soup first? You should become one of my poetry friends.

Gershon Wolf July 30, 2019 at 10:45 PM Such wisdom in this write, Anna. The present is, indeed, oft-neglected (even though it's prelude to the past!!). Perfectly penned, in my estimation. Best wishes, Gershon