In My Past Poem by Michaela Tatualla
In My Past
Several times I come to think
Of what is in my past
The strange memories I keep
Is like a frozen crust
The tune of the rolling breeze
And the grass beneath my feet
Are yearning for integrity
And looking for my breath
The line across my fingertips
Divide the hills and skies
It reveals all the horizons
That hide a thousand cries
Gently I remember
Tragic scenes from the past
All were catastrophes indeed
I hope it will not last
past cannot be wiped off......time makes us to come out of those thoughts but nothing erases it till we breathe last.......beautiful lines....sebastine....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 8:26:16 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Good and bad experiences are in the storage holds of our minds. We do not discard the bad ones since they serve as lessons and help us keep our feet solidly on the ground.