Cleaning out old boxes I find:
old clothes that ive long passed fitting
old bills that have long passed the point of being due
old notes to myself that have long passed the point of purpose
old poems that have long passed the place of remembrance
old pictures that I refuse to view
old love letters that still hurt like new
I think to myself,
“I was better then wasn’t I?
My writing seemed more pure
My voice seemed more authentic
My passion seemed to burn hotter
I had a reason to own all those ties
What happen to me?”
We all change
rather we want to or not
but
shouldn’t I be looking back with a smile?
I think to myself,
“Thank God I'm not there anymore.
yet here is not that much better
it is arguably worse.
What happen to
Me?”
©Christopher F. Brown 2014
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