《Sonnets》67. These Memories

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Cast into the deep abyss of thy mind

lies each memory both bad and great.

Successes and failures of every kind

creating a feeling of self love and hate.

These memories come back every night

as an honest man’s prison is his pillow.

We see replays of every loss and fight

a feed of events I don’t want to follow.

Each morning I wake with new hope

and a chance to leave memories behind.

Create new moments that are really dope

as my future acts is how I’ll be defined.

Failure is another necessary part of life

stop letting it nag you like a crabby wife.

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