Living In The Past
I awaken, yet, to another today;
my only focus, is tomorrow;
my past, often seems in my way;
with its troubles and sorrow.
Although I cannot change the past;
that past remains my home;
I keep believing it cannot last;
since it’s made me so alone.
My past has become my soliloquy;
my thoughts, revisited every day;
shaping what others will think of me;
my past has become my resume’.
Nothing depends on fault, alone;
everyone has a quest; to be;
past is the furniture of the home;
only the future is destiny.
The future, is beyond what we see;
it’s comprised of past mistakes;
although it’s considered our destiny;
we make our own bad breaks.
Every day, I awaken; feeling queasy;
wishing I’d go back to sleep;
remembering the past; I feel uneasy;
whatever I’ve sown; I’ll reap.
I simply can’t go on this way;
the future comes too fast;
how can I live; day to day;
while living in the past?
Monty 1.7.26. # 3,141