When Your Past Means A Future Lost

A poem about moving on

The past is lost
Yet we waste our minds wondering what could have been
Because it’s easier to face that possibility
Than the reality of what might never come to be

.

Fall.
The leaves change.
I change. You change.
Love, loss, and landmarks pass.

.

300-plus days and not a word spoken,
Wondering if we’ve moved on, or if we’re still broken.
Almost one year has flown by so fast,
Yet I would need a decade to fully process our past.

.

Fall.
The leaves change. We change.
I can’t help but wonder…
Is there a change in heart?
Are we separate, yet growing together?
But I secretly know that we are growing apart.

.

The past is lost
Yet we waste our minds wondering what could have been
Because it’s easier to face that possibility
Than the reality that it will never come to be

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