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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
About life in Melbourne's west and the awfulness of memory.

Submitted: January 18, 2011

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Submitted: January 18, 2011



The dreadful memories that haunt your life
Will slowly start to fade,
As the years pass surely by
And you march on t’ward your grave.

As Alzheimer’s begins to clutch at you
And awful memories they do dim,
You grow e’er grateful to the Lord
As you’re slow approaching Him.

Until clouds of senility
Come to mask your awful grief,
The terrors of your life’s mem’ries
Are ever at the reach.

So roll on sweet senility
To take ‘way many of life’s pains,
Take from me the horrid grief
To never let come again.

As my memory it doth fade
My eyes fast growing weak,
Bring back to me sweet solitude
That the dreadful memories break.

With age comes many aches and pain
Much of the physical kind,
But gladly I will take these pains
To have veils placed o’er my mind.

Blessed veils of forgetfulness
That take from me horror of life,
That take away the agony O mem’ry
And leave serenity rife.

For memories are a hurting thing
That bring more pain than pleasure,
And with their loss my life improves
No more grieving to endure.

One day these awful memories will pass
Hid in the seas of sweet senility,
Until that day mem'ries bring you pain
And you hope for death to bring finality.

© Copyright 2011
Philip Roberts

© Copyright 2017 Philip Roberts. All rights reserved.

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