We must always forget the past;
that’s where all the garbage goes;
none of it’s meant to last;
like the snot on the end of your nose.
We take pictures so we’ll remember,
events from a long time ago;
but thoughts from a forgotten September,
are irrelevant for me to know.
What about loves from the past;
in a rogues gallery to view;
will also their memories last;
when tomorrow comes into view.
Those jobs from which you were fired;
will they remain on your mind forever;
or the last one from which you retired;
will you recall it so much better?
All of the people you’ve lied to;
those college courses you failed;
is there one who could hide you;
or will everthing soon be unveiled?
But legends of past keep on growing;
things that past thought would come;
fresh seeds, the past keep on sowing;
so what didn’t happen was done.
Becoming the present; the past expires;
it’s out of date and is no longer valid;
for history is written by the greatest liars;
and the truth becomes rotted egg salad.