Please, Oh Please, No Memories: mnemophobia
He had no fears of birds or bees,
Of monsters or of soaring trees.
His feared his many memories.
Oh, sure, he’d sometimes been so bad—
Illegal, some, but just a tad.
He was a fairly normal lad.
But later on it just grew worse,
For in his mind he would rehearse
That time he robbed his mother’s purse,
The time he kicked the family dog,
And hit his brother with a log,
And called his sister “such a hog.”
And later, thinking of disease,
Imagining his final wheeze:
“At least I’ll have no memories!”