Memories scream at me, talking in
an emotional tongue.
Good memories; bad memories… Which is what?
Some memories are great, but
I don’t
want to remember them.
It reminds me that
I don’t
have them anymore.
How does that happen?
The intensity, the feeling and the emotion.
Of that situation.
I have to let it go?
File it in my vast memory bank?
I got lost in the moment, caught in the headlights;
as I savoured, then lost, such incredible sights.
I’m reliving my memories, and the lights are too bright;
I’m caught in the moment, lost in the headlights.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem