“That Past”

How easily the Past

Comes back to haunt us

How many times has that been said

 

It sits on one’s shoulder

Peeping, wondering

Do I come out

 

And then when it does

The Clouds appear

The Wall, that black wall

From nowhere

It is there

 

Today, tomorrow

Next week

Next month

How long one asks

Before I can forget that past

 

Have the strength

To push those clouds

Normally white and soft

New Black and hard

Push them away

 

Until the next time

Always a next time

Perhaps when death

Finally comes

And if I believe

There is a Heaven

 

Then one can turn

Look at each shoulder

Not only see

But feel

That Past is finally

Not there

 

 

 

 

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2 thoughts on ““That Past”

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