A man doesn’t have time
To take the time to forget
He comes to it naturally
Much like walking and sleeping
At first he forgets why he enters a room
What he gnawed for breakfast
Searching for some stupid screwdriver
But through practice he improves
Forgets the names of his schoolmates
Aunts who sewed cuts and raised his hopes
With great success his forgetting rockets
Claims to not know where his sons live
Can’t recall his first love’s name
With maturity he loses more of his past but
Never those who retell his stories
Soon he remembers what never occurred
Labels as lies what certainly did
With great age he shouts at the many who failed him
So angry his carers pull him back to his room
So alike to the cell he’d put them all in
When he learns too late of a serious illness
He no longer remembers how to forget
Instantly recalls all that he’s lost
Memory then opens a window
Staring out on the waiting room of the universe
A space so vast he can’t even see it
A place that holds all the time it needs
To forget him, his world, time itself