In the morning,
will it be like yesterday?
How the hours,
drain love,
when all we want,
is the best for each other.
We grew selfish,
when we couldn’t find the words,
and became abrupt,
when we couldn’t read each other.
My stamina waned,
your resilience drained,
we held onto our past,
like a mother to her child.
Today, I’m done,
emotions weigh heavy,
so I sleep –
hopeful that in the morning,
it will be like yesterday.
We live today
for an unknown future,
while memories
flash clues,
remembering only
what matters.
I waste so much time,
unaware until it’s gone;
Paralysed by thought,
finite and out of sight;
I grew old when I was young,
out of time before I began;
Time wasted on regrets,
and unfulfilled dreams;
What could have been – wasn’t,
and what was – shouldn’t have been.
Tight ropes and balancing acts,
no cushion could ease this blow.
The weight of knowing trips me,
when memory mocks ambition
And staggers progress
for want of more of the same.
Lewis Walddren 