It's All a Haze

A Pseudotaph (a poetic theme of "false burials" (things, thoughts, concepts, etc.)

My head can hold just so much stuff
before it screams “I've had enough.”
Some thoughts were deep, but others fluff,
and sometimes I confused them.

I should respect what I was taught,
as well as random stuff I've caught.
I'd hate to think 'twas all for naught
and my brain just refused them.

I learned a lot in those years past.
My opportunities were vast.
But thanks to me they didn't last,
and, sadly, I abused them.

A cemetery in my head
holds many thoughts I've heard or read.
They stayed awhile, but later fled
because I never used them.