The Past

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Always, there is this desperation

Burdening me with shame and regret,

Cunningly stealing my life away,

Determined to kill me or else make me forget.

Elusive memories terrorizing me,

Forcing me to recall that it’s over.

Good thoughts and kind words, now

Hardly a friend or cover,

Instead, they prolong the suffering,

Joyous where there is no right,

Keeping me hopeful,

Leaving me in the long night.

Maybe tomorrow will be better.

Nothing lasts, it washes away.

Or else smashes against the rocks,

Perhaps to be made beautiful someday.

Quietly, thoughts slip from me,

Returning too late or not at all.

Slowly, at first, it starts to erode.

Time eventually takes a bigger haul.

Useless against it,

Vigorous as I may fight,

While I scream in anguish,

X’s and O’s will be torn from my sight.

Young minds believe you can go on without the past.

Zealously, my ardent heart beats its last.

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