Sometimes when we forget, we should remember.
Who doesn't know that? Everyone's aware
That to extinguish the last dying ember
Of memory can also snuff out care,
Concern, and preparation, and destroy
The hope that was to have been recalled
Would be retained (if it was aught of joy)
Or warded off (if it would have appalled).
Yet even when such stakes do not appear
And memory is not the key of good,
There are deep reasons why we ought to fear
Forgetting things we really know we should
Bear with us: what is life without the past?
What happiness is there if naught will last?
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