Poems might be
a perfect place to complain———(let it all out—unedited)
But you might rather take a deep breath——-(air-condition the brain)
and begin fresh ————(like a new person focused on the future)
than saddle the back of a rattle snake———-(and ride stupidly)
making a scene——(blah, blah, blah— loudly raising hell all over the place)
over lost yesterdays—-(unearthed failed days, places, things…)
and transgressions —-(people tied to pangs of longing and regret)
that should best stay— (aren’t you thinking about those things right now)
forgotten ————————(well, good luck with that)