Don't hang your hat
On the past.
It's a dead fire
A muted choir.
A pretty liar.
Tied to your mast,
Your fate to the wind.
Don't cry for a shadow.
Eclipsing your sun.
It's a deal done.
A web spun.
Where you broke free.
Fly in the ether
Of a fantasy.
Where a heart born for you
That silent drum of love.
Leave the past below
As you soar above.
And fade with her
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Comments about this poem (The Past. by Kevin East )
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