a not so heroic couplet

[hello___friend]

the politics of keeping your memories.

have to get out, have to leave this city.
i'm drowning in familiarity.
Everything that i know is all right here,
and staying is just more than i can bear.
Not to be mistaken, i love this place,
and this home has been forever my base.
These parks i set foot in so long ago
are now sounds and smells of by which i know,
and the people: my friends, parents, classmates,
boss's, busdrivers and akward dates
all populate these city on every block,
for blocks and blocks, at stoplights and bustops.
i've been living here since i was a child
and these people make this city worthwhile,
yet i will not let myself to grow
old in this city next to everythign i know
through the eyes of my youth that could see past
any need for reason. make these my last
visits, i must leave soon. i dare not
sully or overextend this sacred lot
in the messy business of figuring
out where i'm actually going.

better leave this city alone and start
the second half of my life, the part
where i look back and remember the good
and bad elements of my childhood.
over the city limits let grow vines
to engulf the city and in my mind
only may it stay that same. dynamics
always change and adapt but the politics
of keeping your memories is a game
best played without a past, and no room for pain.