Poetry, Quill

_MEMORY_

There are days when I forget how to smile,

the broad daylight seems so vile,

darkness looms as I

touch eat and breathe.

Every atom of my body, seeks silence,

Reluctance permeates the violence,

But then there are also days,

When every hue seems a bit more colourful

my light comes into shape,

Every day seems an escape,

When each and every cell of my body rejoices.

My memory of old days fades.

It comes back again when melancholy approaches.

Am I liberator or a suppressor of my own soul.

I close my eyes as these memories began to unfold.

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