Only the Sweetness is Left

He always has been mostly sweet
but nowadays
it's like someone ran him through
a sieve, catching any pieces
of anger or judgment
so that all that are left
are the sweet parts.

It seems to be the greatest fear
of so many,
the loss of the mind,
no memory
or ability to make decisions.

But I watch one person
live in utter simplicity,
devoid of memories of things past,
in complete happiness and
gratitude
while another loses patience,
judges, wishes that things were
different.
And I wonder if a mind
is all it's cracked up to be.

It's kind of like he's been stripped
bare
and his beautiful, pure, original
essence
just shines,

while I try to find myself
beneath all I think
I know
and all I think
I should know, and
the clutter of memories
and decisions.

I can almost glimpse
that beneath it all,
I, too, am only the Sweetness.