Prisoner Of The Past Poem by Laura Anne

I still have dreams of us;
I hope they're not in vein.
My journey down memory lane
makes this pain hard to contain.
I yearn for us, to grow again.
To mold again, become whole again.
A time when we were innocent
before we encountered the roads bend;
stripped of our purities, by realities treacherous maze.
We circle back around, another lifetime;
things have changed.., yet ironically feel the same.
How could this be if it wasn't destined?
A question I continue to ask.
I'm a prisoner of my own past.
Masked by circumstance; have I crashed my last chance?
Opportunity I fear is fading, for the flame no longer burns bright.
Dying from the cold winds of karma, smothered by tables turned.
I've learned...that choices seal our fate, as mistakes build the walls.
Where chained down by the decisions we make, and enslaved by our personal flaws.
We're prisoners of our previous lives, but no one dies of lost love.
We simply submit in the forms of cries, and dream on how things once were......