Quirks Work?

 

Memento Mori

Memento Mori

Writing in the first person how can I be I sure I am writing as me
Even if I think I describe true events, what in my mind’s eye I see
Can I recount truthfully pictures I find lurking in my own memory
When I start to reinvent, interpret, reconceive who I was, will be

We change, adapt, embellish memories, make sure they stay inside
And if they gain pacing, drama, intrigue in telling, have we really lied
Do we delude only ourselves or others with the stories we tell or hide
Or do we only seek to reason, understand, to cope, to be able to abide

Now I don’t know the answer, perhaps all of these somehow are true
Certainly, truth that lives inside your mind and heart is reality to you
Maybe we spare our feelings, telling little white lies to muddle through
A  gently lie spares us pointless pain trumps unkind truth, told in lieu

Though little lies may blend together, merge, so we become confused
It may be difficult to know who we are if oft the truth we have abused
We may then hurt those we thought to spare; they will feel hard used
In the ones you hurt include yourself. This cannot be ignored, excused

Know we will change past events, alter details it’s how our mind works
Often nothing dire hides behind the curtain, no fear of sharpened dirks
It gives a lot of scientists large study grants and employs a lot of clerks
Though I doubt, maybe someday they will be able to explain our quirks

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