A Fickle Thing

Sometimes it is better to forget.

Memory is a fickle thing

                I remember singing in chorus with resounding joy.

                I recall the grainy feel of air during a walk on the beach.

                I feel my mother’s arms around me,

                Sheltering me from the bitter wind.

 

But there is one thing I can’t remember

And perhaps, never shall.

                That grip on my arm by an unholy fury.

                My sister wailing at my side.

                Those hateful words from a most trusted person

                I want to feel your arm break.

 

Yet Memory is a fickle thing

                I cannot remember this, though

                A fresh sea rises inside.

                                This one betrayal is beyond my mother’s hands

                                Can that which is forgotten be forgiven?

 

Memory is a fickle thing

It cannot be relied to tell the truth of feeling

                                So I have forgotten and forgiven

           My Mother                          Everything

Author's Note

Please let me know what you think.

Reviews

[Philip Muls]

It feels genuine and authentic. You can feel the emotions running deep. Betrayal.

Well done.

[Sami Khalil]

A splendid read and write.Thank you for penning...:)

[despitegreathands]

Man this is really good. It feels very cold which is great.

[Cory Firestine]

Wow! This is a deeply heartfelt and resonating poem, I absolutely loved it. What a personal, chilling story. Great job Mariah. Thank you for sharing this.