Hour Nineteen

Memories are nasty things
Kicking up dust
Settling into corners
Sometimes, yesterday
Weighs so heavy
I cannot get out of bed
My therapist says I live
In the past, forget today
He lacks credibility, though right
It’s his talk of religion
I mistrust, foul concept
But his services are free
It’s easy to remember
It will never be tomorrow
When I see yesterday so clearly

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