All those things we didn't say
Float around our heads
They linger too
Like our faulty memories
And the changes come and go
Like the seasons;
Winter soon comes
But still we hold on
Where does that leave us?
And you know these stories
Are just made up
These are fantasies we make
Reflecting on decisions
In our quiet repose
What if we chose differently?
Admitted that we were scared?
The past cannot change
But we control the future
Holding close those remnants
Because we can't predict
What is right in front of us
And yet, we gave that up too
Where are we now?
Face to face with our mirrors
In a silent struggle
Locking eyes
And saying goodbye
We still run round in circles
Repeating over and over
What is left for us?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem