It’s always there behind me,
I ignore its constant whispers about what I should do,
About how I should act,
I Live in the here and now I tell myself,
and I continue with my day,
But i’m followed,
The past never leaves,
Everyday it’s whispers become louder and louder,
Until the day I listen to what it has to say,
And the day I regret what I’ve just done
3 thoughts on "Past"
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Truth, truth, truth. The past hangs around like the odor of a skunk! Right when you think you’ve washed it away, there’s another whiff! Loved your poem.
Love your poem and can relate.