Past Disappointments Poem by Achim Wollscheid

Should I shudder from past dissappointments
and haunting pleasures stifling my soul?
Where is there to run; from these things, there is nowhere.
There exists no eraser powerful enough to remove
these everlasting stains.
A clock has yet been invented
that can turn back the hands of nature's time.
So was there ever any use in crying
for the days already gone?
Were the gestures unnecessary,
every angry motion, meaningless?
Did I waste so many of the few seconds in life?

But in truth there should be no worry,
there should be no residing pain
because it did forever part.
It traveled and eventually it was dead to my heart.
No, there is no magic eraser
and no one comes close to creating a time machine,
but there is a doctor who knocks gently at my head.
And I finally stand, miraculously, after being nearly dead.
There is abundant merriment I am fed
by the cook whose made a home of my kitchen.
The seconds are spent and I rest for the night.
I discard all the agony and live on with all of my might.