Mon, 02/15/2016 - 17:00 -- pahaha


No matter where I am it's always with me.

Whether it's sad or happy.

Any perfect moment is a perfect memory.

How could I live without any memories?

The horror of living as an empty vessel force to live on this dirt.

Without the knowledge or experience of even keeping.

Without anything worth seeking.

A large web of networking.

A memory is like a picture, stored away in an endless album.

A unique way to reminisce sounds, sight, tastes, and feelings.

Memories may be painful to the point where my heart gets wounded.

Leaving harsh scars and permanent marks, never forgotten. 

Even if I cry to god, "God, why life is so rotten!"

For everything is stored where my sins can never be forgotten. 

But if I can choose to stand and struggle.

I can live freely without keeping my feelings bottled.

Memories of loss is never forgotten for they are alive in our memories.

And even if we live on, we make more memories to cry over.

Remembering them as if they were stories.

Memories of love, bitter-sweet.

But to some sad or cheap.

Without any memories how could I tell how I feel?

Or know if what I feel for love is real?

Memories of family, soothing, happy, and sometimes sad.

Raised together with a mother, father, and an older brother. 

My first memory is being held as a baby.

Having my first sights, sounds, and scents of my mother.

Soon separated as my heart wanted to cry, god save me.

One or the other I can't choose both.

Will be a memory that will always haunt me. 

As life goes on and I still have long to live.

I meet new people, friends, and family, and gain more memories to receive and give.

So if someone asks me what can I not live without?

It's all these memories that are endless to count.




This poem is about: 
My family
Our world



I couldn't decide which picture would fit my poem so I thought of my school.

A memorable memory before I graduate.

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