Forgetting is silly When you keep echoing What’s-it-called what’s-his-name what-was-I-saying In every conversation once twice thrice But it’s all nice Nobody minds it, really You might forget who you met (Maybe it was someone not that great) Or the name of the person you’re talking to And cover it up with a smile or two; Forgetting is nonchalance A disrespectful indifference, a lack of sense When you fail to do what they asked of you Simply because you didn’t remember to An irresponsible fool Who agrees to Run errands, and evades doing them It’s natural that you’re to blame; Forgetting is confusion A blurring of your youthful vision When you can’t remember The goals that centre Your lousy little life- What to live for, what to live by? Jumbled up to-do lists and half-done work Failing to pick up where you left off. Forgetting is absolutely wretched It may fill you with a blunt dread When you can’t remember What the hell is supposed to make you feel Something. Nothing? Anything!- To make you dance, to make you sing There’ll be something that you can almost feel But you might just forget what it is. Forgetting, I say, is worse than loss. Forget me not, forget me not.
mimimusing 