What Lay Forgotten – A Poem

She got onAmazoncollegemailroom

to the elevator.

When she saw

me, her smile

brightened and her

whole body shone.


She said, excitedly.

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in forever!”

I looked through

my memory, the

albums of memories

that are there.

I flipped through

the place I

thought she should

be, but the

page was blank,

with nothing on it

except the words


written in bold

red type. I

closed the album

within my head

and looked at

her, hoping that

my smile was

convincing enough. I

offered her pleasantries

and asked if

she had vacation

planned. I didn’t

ask anything personal

because I could

remember nothing about

her, not her

name, not where

I knew her

from, not even

how long I

knew her. Inside

my head, I

opened the memory

book and placed

a photo of

her, so that

it would be

there next time.

When the disease

hit, it left

me with a

battle to fight

within my own

body. It also

took something from

me. My memories.

I used to

be able to

quote from movies

on queue, remember

the plot and

title of every

book I’ve ever

read, every place

I’ve been to,

songs I used

to know by

heart. Now, all

those memory books

are filled with

blank pages, blank

faces, empty places.

After the heaviness

left me, and

I took up

the fight, my

focus was on

getting better. As

I started that

battle, I started

to realise how

quiet it was

inside my head.

I took a

look inside myself

at the boxes

filled with memory

books, pictures and

pieces of paper,

memories preserved for

later reference. I

was shocked to

find an almost

empty room instead

of a warehouse

filled to the

brim. Now there

was only one

room filled with

a handful of

boxes. As I

started to go

through the boxes,

I kept seeing


where a memory

once resided, its

page left with

a vague outline

of whatever had

been there before,

a shadow of

what it use

to be. At

first, this worried

me and I kept

thinking that my

boxes would never

be full again.

I lamented that

which I had

forgotten. Eventually, I

realized that, in

a way, it

was a blessing,

that everything that

had been forgotten

could be filled

with a new memory,

and that everything

I had forgotten

could be new

all over again.

I realized that

new albums could

be made and

that life didn’t

have to be

spent lamenting what

I had forgotten.

That the past

was the past

and all I

had to do

was focus on

the future. I

turned to the

woman in the

elevator and asked

“I’m sorry, but could you tell me your name again?”


About Jamieson Wolf

Jamieson an award winning, Number One Best Selling Author. He writes in many different genre's. Learn more at www.jamiesonwolf.com
This entry was posted in Info, Letting the Water Flow, Poems, Talking Poems and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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