I cannot begin to understand,
Whether it is our duty
As the ones left behind,
To remember the dead
Or forget about them.
To remember their smiles,
Their laughs, their voices.
Or to forget their tears,
Their pain, their screams.
Because we cannot simply remember one
But not the other.
They blend together, smiles turn into tears,
Laughter into pain, voices into screams.
So do we choose to forget them altogether,
Or bear with them not only the beautiful,
But the dark as well?
I cannot, for the life of me, begin to understand.