The Past is an ignoble place to visit,
We cannot be certain of anything.
We cannot go there by train or car,
Or even by foot.
But Lay your head back on a pillow,
You will be transported to years ago.
Did we all have Mothers who cared for us?
Were there Fathers who worked hard to provide for us?
We cannot be sure.
We are forced to create our memories anew.
Be careful when you travel to the Past.
It is a place filled with Ghosts and demons,
Ready to blame you for everything that went wrong.
There are dark creatures locked there forever.
The only gateway is through your memories.
How terrifying is the Past.
It is unforgiving and almost as dreadful as the Future.
-
Author:
David Wakeling (
Offline) - Published: February 1st, 2024 00:07
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
Offline)
Comments1
I guess what you pose here is a reality that slips into places of hope and subtracts. My percentage is that conjured of a stubborn arrogance. They’re my dreams , it’s my recollection , it’s a place where I insist upon a modicum of control. Maybe the girl left me on a day just after I got fired and all that chases me w the consequence of avalanche. But as soon as I regain normal pulse my dreams will be of my next job that I’m now free to find and the next girl who will be attached to my idiosyncrasies and rain might compel a search for a great book. They are my thoughts and dreams and they forever will reside in the asset column. I won’t debate others w views differed but I won’t get trapped into agreeing.
Good for you. You don't need to agree with the poem.I simply thank you for reading.
Nuance ran away from me , I agree with the poem as it’s a reality worthy of scribe. I viewed this as if you and I were commentators observing
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.