Why do you tend to forget things of the Past?
For instance you have forgotten my childhood...
Some, which have faded in your mind with time,
And some, which you have purposefully suppressed.
Why don't you remind me of the accident,
Where my stomach acted as a speedbreaker to a scooter,
When I was three?
Or that time, when I recorded my broken nursery rhymes,
Over your Favourite artist's cassette...
They are there in my mind like a buried seed lying dormant,
in a desert.
They resurface, but I don't ask you Dad...
I fear, tears would water that seed, about all the memories, and about Her.
For she was a lady who was the sense of our being, for all of us, all three of us.
Why do you see, the past, as a sad collection of memories?
Why is there a word for sad memories, but none for the happy ones?
Can't you see, that the happy ones were worth living for? Worth cherishing?
And even though the sad ones were painful, and sometimes overwhelming
To the extent I cried like a kid, but then, I WAS a kid.
You have lived through them, and I have lived through them.
Can't you see, sometimes, we both laugh at an instance
where all four of us were together,
Dining at the restaurant...
Have you forgotten? You haven't, a bit. I know.
Or would you smudge the memories too, when I'm gone?
For instance you have forgotten my childhood...
Some, which have faded in your mind with time,
And some, which you have purposefully suppressed.
Why don't you remind me of the accident,
Where my stomach acted as a speedbreaker to a scooter,
When I was three?
Or that time, when I recorded my broken nursery rhymes,
Over your Favourite artist's cassette...
They are there in my mind like a buried seed lying dormant,
in a desert.
They resurface, but I don't ask you Dad...
I fear, tears would water that seed, about all the memories, and about Her.
For she was a lady who was the sense of our being, for all of us, all three of us.
Why do you see, the past, as a sad collection of memories?
Why is there a word for sad memories, but none for the happy ones?
Can't you see, that the happy ones were worth living for? Worth cherishing?
And even though the sad ones were painful, and sometimes overwhelming
To the extent I cried like a kid, but then, I WAS a kid.
You have lived through them, and I have lived through them.
Can't you see, sometimes, we both laugh at an instance
where all four of us were together,
Dining at the restaurant...
Have you forgotten? You haven't, a bit. I know.
Or would you smudge the memories too, when I'm gone?
