What do you do when your mem’ry rebels?
When that part of you goes on the blink?
It leaves you deserted
Tongue-tied, vacant-worded
And feeling unable to think!
My mem’ry is testing my dominance, here,
At most inappropriate times
It vacates the scene
Leaving gaps in between
What I’m saying and what I had in mind.
What younger folk don’t seem to realize
Is that over a person’s lifespan,
There are millions of things
Stored up there, in the wings
Of the brain, so we’ll have them on hand.
It’s no wonder that finding that looked-for word
Out of all of the stuff stored up there
Is a pain to recall
So, why not, after all,
Just make one up out of thin air?
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