The Junkyard of My Mind
The Junkyard of My Mind?
the junkyard of my mind is
full of images
places that I used to belong
now they flash before me
like lost scenes in time
how can something lovely
feel so wrong
the junkyard called my heart
is full of feelings
stuff I used to know
somewhere in time
that rises up and tries to choke me
demanding from my spirit
to be heard
expressed in word
Am I right to call these parts a junkyard?
just because the memories are cold,
or should I call these parts a storeroom
where memories become like things of gold
Copyright © Janis Medders Tobechi | Year Posted 2019
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