A Poem by Max

i have had this idea for a while, i just had to write this poem.

life is a string of memories
nothing more
nothing less
theres no such thing as now
and how
it turns to a memory
this is a memory now

this too

you arent living just going through a long string of memories
old ones forgotten
new ones soon
like water in a spoon
you can only hold so many memories
bfore your memory is over
turned to dust
starting to rust

mabe only you are alive
mabe no one else could survive
and youre seeing memories that never played
a record stuck with no sound
a life that cant be found

some times i lay and think,
ideas flow like a sink
but they drain into the pipe of memories
and that pipe just goes to the sewer
and the memories are cleaned and reused as more pointless memories
and endless cycle of now and then
that can never be broken

and even though this poem is just a memory in time,
i hope i made you think
with this simple rhyme.

© 2012 Max

Author's Note

i know i didnt capitalize my is. please tell me what you thought of that memory.

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this is a very interesting take on life. now is but the past and the past is but memories untill they age and fade. .

Posted 11 Years Ago

An interesting take on what our "reality" is...

Posted 11 Years Ago

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2 Reviews
Added on April 7, 2012
Last Updated on April 7, 2012




I am 14. My lifes just been pretty screwed up. I just recently started to write poetry. i am very weird, and i like rock music, playing the bass, knives, and fire (and no, im not emo, i just like kniv.. more..

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