Consciousness is impossible to explain;
tho its memories are usually explicit;
lest we trouble ourselves to complain;
memory is often difficult to elicit.
Memory is an island within the mind;
where past consciousness, resides;
sometimes, being stretched and refined;
for truth seldom lasts, inside.
Memories possess the mind’s definitions;
facts; not always, scrupulously applied;
whether confessions or merely contritions;
memories, often will be denied.
Memory Island is not totally exclusive;
allowing, future thoughts and dreams;
an island, secluded and often reclusive;
but, truth may not be as it seems.
The island exists in the reality ocean;
its lattitude and longitude, unknown;
others, within; would overload emotion;
for the Memory Island is my home.
Everyone has their own special place;
where emotions are allowed to run wild;
facing their fears, sorrows, and disgrace;
its a playground for God’s special child.
Memory Island is destined to be history;
innundation of this place of the past.
Flooding memories; ended its mystery;
for, memories, aren’t meant to last.