Looking back . . . . at my troubled life. I can see many things I did wrong
Said wrong too often for no good reason
‘Til I die will I rue the words I spoke in haste in my silly anger
Looking back . . . .
I’m guilty of chasing too many prophecies and too many hollow dreams
And the chase swallowed my youth and with it, my arrogant pride
Seemed my buccaneer days would last forever – they didn’t
Flung words like arrows and hurt the ones who once loved me
Her beauty was her weapon
I was captured and raptured and would spend the hour devouring her every inflection and every turn of her lips and the light of her eyes.
Her love injured me – eventually
So by it came now to stand vexed at every fork hence
Whence comes that thousand yard stare and yet nothing is seen
Wish I could have a re-do and reconcile my spirit and come to breathe again