A voice In the dark

The past

It's strange the things you remember
And the things you seem to forget.
It's a jamboree of all sorts,
A patchwork of joys and regrets.

You remember the days when you mess up,
The days when sadness brings tears,
But you forget all those small happy moments
When it's laughter that brings you to tears.

If only we could be happy forever,
To look forward, not think of the past,
Our lives would be full of elation,
With sadness a ghost of the past.

Any suggestions for a name would be nice