Book Of Counted Sorrows

Chances

In the twilight of a yesteryear--

I felt from mine eyes,

     Slide down a tear-

A tear for Songs

  no longer sung;

     A tear for Days,

        Now Past-

  Become...

     A tear for Smiles-

     too quick to last...

Now stains on the heart.

          Stains of the Past.

Regret's Feast-

    a daily repast.

         As eyes,

Backward

              Cast....

          About,

             For the rope,

        On which dangles-

Hope...

Yet--

Would I wish to be younger then?

    And sojourn the Journey once again?

Unwind this lengthy Spool of Life;

   Tighten the line,

      Then take Fate's knife-

         And swipe!

Sever every Choice I've made...

This Life-

....a brand-new bed I've laid....

To relive the errant days of youth.

   Awaken the pain.

         Stay.... confused?

But Oh! To be Innocent;

        Just for a day...

With all my Wisdom flittered away.

     Traded away,

        for Dreams of Gold-

   Dreams that were mine,

            When Time was old....

For Wisdom clasps tightly, the hand of Pain.

The Tides of Chance, may wax and wane-

But Anguish is ever the twin profane

     Of any Knowledge gained...

I wonder--

    Would I have the gall-

To trade my Knowledge, for none at all.

To wipe the slate,

          And start again.....

Would I make the same Enemies?

Make the same Friends?

Can a Song, unsung, be heard again?

Is the line of a life

       The same every time?

The only thing changing

    Is wording & rhyme?

    Or does each Time bring

A

NEW,

Random

             Thing?

Each more wonderful

    Than the one before?

If you just started over,

          Perhaps you'd do more...

Perhaps these are questions

    I've already asked-

In a Future that now, would be my Past.

Who knows how many Chances I've had before this;

How many chances at happiness, I've missed.

How many times

Have I tripped on the

              Past?

Reliving a moment that cannot last?

My Future ignored,

     For the sake

   Of a chance-

My vision,

            Distorted,

By that backward glance.

And of all the things I could have become-

I haven't...

Because of something not done.

            Some battle not won.

    Some deed left, undone.

     The Song not sung.

For fear I would lose

  The right to Choose...

So I think,

       This time,

   I'll take the chance.

Finish the song.

Finish the dance.

And when I am done,

        There'll be no regrets.

Just-

"That was my Life" and

"This is my Death".

No shedding tears for times lost and gone.

No looking back, on days past become.

And in the twilight of a yesteryear;

             I will smile,

    And remember how dear

Memory can be-

And that I was Me.

I'll hold onto that thought

       'Till it's all I can see.

Repeating until it makes

          Cosmic Sense.

Then rinse and repeat,

'Till I'm confused again.

But something tells me

That this was meant to be...

This- 'Dichotomy of Me'.

And if given the Chance

     To re-walk the Line;

I'd say

"Nope. I got it right the first time".