Paint on canvas, not the first time.
Looking back on my life,
With a fondness of a kind.
Too much blood, emotions cut like a knife.
The hurt I’ve come to recognise.
The love I’ve tended to despise.
These are the words on my pages;
Solitudes and distruptions of childhood.
All seems like ages
Ago, for all of these memories
where is the good?
In these silver years do I see
Anymore clearer than I once
Did, these things I have written?
With acceptance and abhorrence
Who in their clear mind
Would have done these things?
Isn’t it really just a sign
Of the tightening of the pathos strings?
I enjoyed it, reflections make me vomit.
Memories are bathed in fear
Did anyone know, wasn’t there a falling comet?
There must be an explanation
I don’t wish to own the past
It must all be an aberration
But it looks as though it’s going to last
Let me look forward.
For I must stop waiting for the past.
To some how improve, O Lord.
I can never change what in stone, ‘sbeen cast.
Its just crazy to drive my life
While watching the rearview.
Filling my heart with strife
About things back then of nothing I knew.
Cruising towards the future
On this backward course.
Just going to lead to frontal suture.
But its just a human curse
To want to make things better.
To make whole unfinished business.
The existential worlds are always sadder
When we have failed at an authentic existence.
Up to this day since our youth.
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