Do we admit Nostalgia’s dangerous?
Can memory be trusted in this sense?
Is present just a past to plagiarize?
Can I remember all that’s let me hence?
Was I present for each cup of coffee?
Did I mean each time I said “I love you?”
Each poem written came so easily;
They came to me as I was above you.
Even the most perceptive among us
Will only remember what he wants to
Placing his complete and absolute trust
An organ like the brain is never true
So when you think on how things used to be
Remember this: Forget it, and be free.