I wish to visit the brightly lit town
of my long-buried memories.
But I am afraid to pass by
the dark alleys of my buried hopes.
Memories are often mixed up,
such that we cannot separate
the good from the bad.
My destination is a small place
surrounded by miles of misery,
where I wish not to set foot on.
If I take a peek into my pouch of happiness,
it might pull me into a universe of pain.
Not looking back is the wisest choice.
The choice of the logical mind.
But the temptation clouding the heart
cannot be overlooked.
If the mind goes soft on the heart,
Buried emotions will resurface.
History of self-torment will repeat itself.
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