Once Reworked

Joyful, resentful, demanding and loud The past is a place, where I felt defined Pain I wear it an invisible shroud I’ll take to my grave, unless I can find That time that I colored to lend it weight, Bright little boxes, for fear we be late. Unthinkable that time could lose its hue Fading with it all I held to be true Time now weighs heavy, a mantle of lead. Time then so light so quickly was it spent Paying no heed to my disease so spread Till I was left, or was it me that went? Once was mother, but alas no more, I have lost my voice, but inside I roar 09/09/2020