What Might Have Been
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Recalling yesteryears,
you pause on every scene.
And doubting choices made,
dream; of what might have been.
Time slowly unravels
the tangled threads of youth.
And reveals the white lies
that camouflage the truth.
You peer into a heart
you overlooked in haste.
And savor the moment
for its bittersweet taste.
Fragmented memories
help you recall her face.
And dream what could've been,
in fantasy's embrace.
A sentimental fool,
you feel fate's done you wrong.
And haunts you like the words
to a forgotten song.
(Quatrain)
10/10/2015
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
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