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Precious Stones of Our Past

I am writing this but
I’m not here. I’m still
there. I spent most of
the day yesterday
writing about there
and then.

Writing about another
time and place, trying
to remember what I

It left me drained and
a little raw. There is risk
in remembering.

Sometimes, when you
scratch the surface of
a memory, the
floodgates open wide.

Both good and bad
memories can fill the
mind and flood the heart.

Some of what I
remembered I’m keeping.

Some of what I
remembered I’ll send
back where it came from.

There is always value in
remembering even those
things that are best

It is good that we have
been created to both
remember and forget;
all we’ve remembered
and forgotten have
made us who we are.

Our memories are the
precious stones of our
past and the wealth of
our future.

Categories: Poetry

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Poet, Writer, US Army (Retired)

I dreamed of writing when I was a youngster. The love of books and writing may have helped to dull the pain of severe sexual abuse as I was sexually abused by two men at my father’s place of work from age 8 to 12 or so. I learned about this for the first time when I was 50 years old. So, as a boy, reading was the only place I had to go to. My fantasy world was better and safer than my real world. I loved reading and writing.
Reading books and writing poetry are a joy to me still and are an important part of my life. (See my About Me page on my blog for the complete profile.)

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