Not a day goes by
without another sigh
as yet another memory
returns to rake its old debris.
Can conscience ever clear
dark doubt, ongoing fear
to offer balm for aching hearts
when old mistakes prevent new starts?
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Whispers from the grave,
long-held regrets, enslave
by haunting halls of hidden dreams
that etch away at self-esteem.
Worth can't be replaced
unless the past is faced;
a stagnant pool of bitter grief
becomes time's ever-wary thief.
Not an hour hand chimes
without the sands of time
reminding all who hesitate
that life is far too short to wait.
Lessons learned o'ertake
the place of each mistake
and moving on shows far more guts
than wallowing in muddy ruts.
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Time's a precious gift
to spend with conscious thrift.
Poems About Moving On Part 1 | 2
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