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The past poem

Updated on December 14, 2011

The past







The past


I can feel the emptiness calling my name.

I feel the rush of hurt, and pain.


I hear the echoes of a forgotten past,

Like ghosts in the darkness they flash by so fast.


With bitter sweetness, I reflect on chances never taken.

Hopes and dreams that life has forsaken.


I hear the words that were never spoken, and

I remember the promises that were all too often broken.


Where do I go from here? Where should I start?

When my soul is all but empty, and I carry a wounded heart.


I carry the cross of torment, and try to remain brave,

But I fear the voice of the past will haunt me to my grave.


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