Not in the House: Memories of the Past are What Life Was All About

"I think it's really time we had this talk.
We need to have some room, where we can walk."

"Who owns the house?" an old man asked his wife.
"I am really tired of all of this strife!"

"And I am, too." His young wife sweetly smiled,
Earnestly hoping they would be reconciled.

Their bantering continued through the day,
Did not stop, but what could anyone say?

"Your collection of trophies rules the house;
There is no longer room here for a mouse."

"Didn't call you a mouse," the old man said.
"Look at the pile of papers you have read."

His wife looked all around and then, she spoke.
"I keep a lot of things because we're broke."

"But we're not broke," the stunned, old man replied.
"I kept some things because others have died."

"I recycle things, so why cannot you?
Re-cycling is the best thing to do."

"Re-cycling to me becomes a pain.
I have to do it, again and again."

"You recycle newspapers that are new
And hang onto all the older ones, too."

"Perhaps we should just give it all away?"
"Those are your toys; with what then would you play?"

"How are we ever going to live in peace?
Hoarding like this, for some folks does not cease."

"How dare you say what I save, hoarding, dear?"
"Keep it," she said. "You need to have it near."

"Some of my stuff, I have had all my life;
A lot of it belonged to my first wife."

"And to your second, and your third," she thought.
"I wonder how much you have ever bought."

"You and I will never eye-to-eye see,
Not in the house, unless we both agree."

"I don't think we should toss anything out.
Memories are what life is all about."

"Memories are sometimes more like a ghost.
I really love the things we've treasured most."

Knowing what to keep, save, give away or re-cycle can prevent hoarding.