Planning for the Past

So many things I wish I had done

Kisses savoured, loves cherished

The purple, massive shroud of lost hopes

A seductive temptress of should

And for what?

Regret? Remorse?

The stifling, black cloak of singing suns missed?

So many mornings turned to evenings before my very eyes

As I clucked hooves down a path of blindness and shame

Well no more

Again, no more I say

This is my great getting-up morning

Of hope, potentials and promise

The past lurks behind corners like an abused child, a beaten woman

Masked as a false prophet

An empty promise that will never come true

Enticing me to plan for a future of myth

And a past of squandered blessings

I will not believe in her true story of pain

For there is work to be done

But for now

I will sing this night of sweet lullabies

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