The Past is Lived

The past is lived over again and again
Playing over and over for ourselves
Yet we tend to push off the bad memories
And hold onto the best ones.

We remember the gentle moments and
We recall the sweet smiles for a long time
As well the soft touches of those we loved
Clinging to them and storing them away.

Though the memories’ fine and last a long time
Their breezes and scents hold no weight
As long as the ones we have loved
Remain a part of our lifes, stirring our souls.