To reflect upon the past,
To stir up broken hearts,
Broken souls, dusty cast
Of old memories, lonely in stature
Is to never forgive
The old and mature
For passing;
This is not what we want.
But instead, if we must,
We must step back and recant
These nostalgic-felt aches
Holding us hostage in time,
Reminding us of our mistakes
As if we need something else
To hinder our struggles
Be it sight, sense, smells
Or reflections.
