Memories
I remember,
back when
I knew who he was.
How we'd laugh,
talk, fight, and gave
each other nicknames.
Oh, sweet memories.
That's all they are now,
memories.
Whether in
a picture frame, or forever
etched into my brain,
just memories.
And that's all they'll ever be.
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Just Think of You This Year | 0 | 12/27/2010 |
| Ceasefire | 0 | 09/28/2010 |
| Radio | 0 | 09/20/2010 |
| Superman | 2 | 09/20/2010 |
| Scars | 1 | 09/20/2010 |
| I Love You | 1 | 09/20/2010 |
| I Still Love You | 1 | 09/20/2010 |
| Memories | 0 | 09/20/2010 |
| Light at the End of the Tunnel | 1 | 09/20/2010 |
| Game | 3 | 09/20/2010 |
| Whisper | 0 | 09/20/2010 |
| U+Me | 0 | 09/20/2010 |
| Too Much Hurt | 0 | 09/20/2010 |
| Lullaby Baby | 0 | 09/20/2010 |
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