Aoife writes:

‘A new poem about reminiscing on your youth and regretting lost time.’


What is the point of memories if they are just kept in storage?
Fragments of my conscience littering my brain.
A painter fatigued by the colour grey.
Tears seeps into my pillowcase.

Trapped inside photographs,
I attempt to resuscitate youth.
Spark a candle for the girl I once knew.

I am but mere history,
A flame of fiery ferocity
and psychiatry.
Am I lost in the labyrinth of mystery?
Or insanity?
A malfunctioning machine.
Now I am
Sad and

Wilting Serotonin.

Aoife Cunningham

Previously: Wings Of Wardship

Running Out

4 thoughts on “Memory Storage

  1. Gabby

    A touching poem on stored memories. Compare with Sonnet 30 by Shakespeare:

    When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
    I summon up remembrance of things past,
    I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
    And with old woes new wail my dear time’s waste:

  2. millie bobby brownie

    You have a real talent Aoife. I hope you continue to nurture it and channel your experiences into it, because it’s hard to find poetry that doesn’t sound like it was written by an emo or an angry student. You have a wonderful way with words.

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