One day, maybe I'll be important again. I use to live inside your head where years ago I unpacked my things and made a home. It was warm, cozy and comforting. Until one day more memories came in, and I had to pack my stuff and move away. You never came to visit me anymore. I'm stuck in this distant part of your memory. It's cold back here, and cramped. I can't see a thing besides a tiny glimmer of light thats hope that one day you'll remember me, and unpack me back into your mind. Until then, I'm just a distant memory, fading ever so slowly away...
You have played well with quite profound thoughts about memory - how we live inside each others heads. It is something I have tried to develop in some of my writing but not always very successfully.
One thing i would say if you don't mind is that my own feeling is that your poem would be improved and making it more user friendly by reformatting it into shorter more digestible chunks eg
One day, maybe I'll be important again.
I use to live inside your head
where years ago I unpacked my things and made a home.
It was warm, cozy and comforting.
Until one day more memories came in,
and I had to pack my stuff and move away.
You never came to visit me anymore.
I'm stuck in this distant part of your memory.
It's cold back here, and cramped.
I can't see a thing besides a tiny glimmer of light
thats hope that one day you'll remember me,
and unpack me back into your mind.
Until then, I'm just a distant memory,
fading ever so slowly away...
You may have had something else in mind so feel free to ignore this!
Well done,
Alan
Would you mind having a look at my poem 'Henry moore -shapeshifter' on a similar subject.
So sad and full of emotion. Nicely done - it conveys your feelings without being cliché or overdone. I like your comparison "Until then, I'm just a distant memory, fading ever so slowly away..." I thought it was nicely done and flowed well:)