"Stages"
I see it now.
I see that there is a distinction,
A difference,
Between the present.
Between the future.
Between the past.
We roam through the present,
Making the most of each day,
Living life to the fullest of capacities.
We aspire and discourage.
We succeed and we fail.
We love.
We hate.
We dream of the future,
Hoping to achieve our goals,
To exceed the expectations and break the stereotypes.
We imagine and dread.
We wish and obsess.
We accept.
We fear.
Yet, we live in the past,
Reminiscing on the best of times,
Wishing that we could relive those moments.
We have no choice but to remember the worst of times,
As old memories are forced to the back of the brain,
Crammed inside of a dusty storage box,
Exactly where we hope they will remain,
Until we are ready to revisit them.
That is,
If we are ever ready to revisit them.
We pray to remember,
We pray to forget,
As life moves through its stages.