The past, I put away in a paper bag
And threw it with the next-day’s trash
I went to bed feeling good,
But sleep didn’t come in a flash
For I remembered the olden days
When we’re young, hasty and brash
When the whole world was at our feet
Full of energy, but always short of cash!
© F Aparici 07/29/2016
This is the third in a series of poems I have written about the past - "The Past", "Twilight" and now "The Trash"