Matches struck ablaze in the backs of cavernous minds.
Memories on fire,
But not burning away.
Swamps of tears lie hidden and unused.
Most of all, the flickering projection.
Replaying, replaying, replaying,
What shouldn't have been
What might've been.
Echoing words bouncing around,
If only
If only
If only
It had been done differently.
The whisper of knowing
Now is too late,
Before was too early.
The past has already happened,
And it cannot be changed.
It cannot be changed.
YOU ARE READING
A Touch of Wonder
PuisiA book of poetry filled with thoughts, experiences, and emotions. "As I walk down the slippery street, My face streaming with tears, The sadness can barely be sustained. But you suddenly kiss away my fears, My dear umbrella in the rain."
