It's hard to know a little,

or so that's what I thought

but now I'm reconsidering

the worth of knowing lots.

It's fun to do the research

it's fun to learn the stories

I thought if I could know them all

it'd bring me wealth and glory.

I assumed a day on Jeopardy

was always in the cards,

so I'd dig through textbooks eagerly

and practice my flash cards.

I wasn't great at homework,

no need to slow down to review.

So my grades were never great

but my tests would pull me through

I collected nerdy secrets

fun facts and lore galore

If you've seen a puzzle

I've probably seen it once before

I read so many books

and I followed many plots

and turned the page through turns of phrase

as words taught me thicker thoughts.

But now at half past thirty

I don't feel quite the same

about the stacks of useless facts

I have piled in my brain

I could kinda use that space

and I find more oft than not

when I try to find particulars

I can't quite reach the spot.

I get lost among the memories

but don't find what I am seeking,

what's the point of knowing things

if you can't use them while you're thinking?

So I started letting go,

I started cleaning house.

making space behind my face

while expired thoughts fall out.

I wasn't really sure at first

if forgetting more would hurt,

but finding something new, again

is quite a sweet dessert.

I return to shows I know I know

and watch them almost new.

The details, jokes, and subtle twists

all do what they're meant to do.

And I can hear that story,

the one you always tell,

as if it was the first time

you pulled it off the shelf.

Amnesia isn't my desire

I hold some things quite dear

but now I think it's not so bad

when smaller things escape my ears.