About the Past
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(about the past)
Scream and tear
Tears on the floor
Glass is shattered
Punches thrown
Blood is splattered
I'm all alone
Empty promises from your tongue
The castle stands stoic on the hill;
The town has sprouted through the centuries around it.
In the cobbled courtyard, merchants come to market,
Yammering about the goods piled precariously on their tables.
Dear 13-year-old Juliana,
Things will get better.
Slowly but surely, you will discover that have anxiety,
Which explains why you are the way you are.
Ezra E. Ohly
165 East Street
Wellington, Oh 44090
Dear past self, I wish you the best for what is to come.
This isn't a letter of bitter regret
This isn't a letter I thought I would send
But sitting here now, after it all
Feeling unwanted, feeling so small,
To the introverted, frightened girl I was:
It may sound generic but you need to know.
Things will fall into place.
There will be tears and loneliness.
I walk paths that were paved long before my existence
Voices and laughter that once echoed for miles
are now replaced by the faint wind
The movement of my feet cause the dust
Torn and Broken
Holes and Stains
A lost wheel, A missing stitch
Time moves on
Some forget , Some do not
We used once.....
everyday, all day, all the time
Now in dust, to rot and rust
A year in review,
A time to be new
There are regrets
and qualities met.
When I consider my goals
and some of their roles,
I realize how much I've grown
There are many times I have wished to go back, to change the past.
Should’ve said this,
Should’ve done that.
The list goes on and on…
But this is not a movie,
And I don’t have a time machine.
My mind of youth, days of past so confused so deluded.
Unknown grounds rocky roads, departed souls.
Entwined in a world of poisonus minds, Life's trap door tryna fade the pain..The pain of life, life's pain plan.
The dim yellow
beam
of the flash light
carves a
path
through the
clutter
of old tools and antiques
One day,
We'll wake up and realise,
For that last 3 generations,
We haven't been living
Not really
There isn't even a pattern
Any more
No one wants to work
No one wants to live
