If I were you, I would not live
in this house, sprawling across a landscape
populated with worn-out memories. Let others
take charge of it, so your hands are free
...
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Most of us are unhappy because we are beholden to our past that we cannot move on. Excellently penned poem.
What a wise poem! We are like a tree - growing with circles and new thin bodies around us. We contain past but... Teach me to create artificial memories please!