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Rated: E · Poetry · Philosophy · #2063347
A poem about the cruelty of the past.
I see so little peace in this world. Of course, what one sees in the world is a reflection of oneself.
This is a world of temporary. Everything ends at some point, everything dies at some point. One must get use to it, or one will lose their mind trying to deny the inevitable. As I walk outside, I see a lot of beauty, but I never deny the opposite.
I see faces in the fog.
These faces are not just the faces of humans. They are the faces of the past.
The past we regret, the past we mourn, the past we reflect on every single day, the past we let destroy our future.
The past...we cannot change.

The past can be filled with pain.
The past can be filled with regret.
The past can be filled with the things we didn't do.
I see faces in the fog, and they are crying.
These faces, are hard to look at.

The past can be filled with beauty.
The past can be filled with happiness.
The past can be filled with great memories we will never forget.
I see faces in the fog, and they are smiling.
These faces, are the hardest to look at.

Happy memories are the saddest. If you are sadder in a memory, you are happier today. If you are happier in a memory, you are sadder today. The past will never come back. You will rejoice when you see that the memories of pain will never take life again, and then you will realize that the memories of love will never take life again. You will then cry, because the past...never comes back.
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