The Past

Turning around to view my lost life,
My eyes are veiled with tears of strife,
Tears that hide what I wish not to view,
Dimming the sight I fear I was due.

Facing forward to view the new day,
I search right and left for a different way,
Shame grips my heart as I look and see,
The mirror reflecting the past I thought behind me.

I break the mirror to find hope in the future,
But it is black and injured, without any cure,
There I stand, no safety in sight,
I realize it must be time to face the fight.

I look behind me and wipe away the tears,
I walk through the sadness of all of those years,
I scream at those memories that won’t leave me alone,
And I hug that sad little girl, the scared one.

She cries on my shoulder as I stroke her hair,
I tell her not to worry because at least I care,
She looks at me and begins to smile,
She takes my hand, as if she feels worthwhile.

We walk through funerals, torture, and fear,
She grips my hand tighter as we view each year,
“Goodbye”, she says, with a hug so tight,
“Now I know, we will be all right.”

I watch her slowly walking home,
And I let her go, but I am not alone,
I feel the warmth of her small, broken hand,
And I know I am finally able to stand.

Not as damaged, but still in need of care,
My eyes are drawn to the day out there,
I see the light, without looking left or right,
I can look ahead, no fear in sight.