I remember when I had no trouble recalling names.
I had no need for mnemonics, I could just remember;
My memory was sharp and unchained by societal norms.
I was free, with no care in the world about political correctness.
Today, under the brunt of political correctness, a lot I forget.
I forget as I actively try to remember my social cues.
Will an honest admission or utterance be misconstrued?
A lot I forget, but still, I remember to question myself!
I remember and in remembering I paralyse myself:
As I passively face the death of my yesterdays.
Where are my yesterdays?
Have they passed away or passed on?
Certain of being politically incorrect, I ask again:
Have my yesterdays passed away or passed on?
Frankly, I care not of the difference;
For I remember the teachings of resurrection.
So, free of political correctness concerns,
My yesterdays shall be resurrected.
For I remember the joy they brought me:
Joy of open communication rooted in sincerity.
Yes, this I remember, and this I shall resurrect.
For it is a cherished truth about my yesterdays!