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He loved you. You knew her. They passed on. I went away. The past can remain with us, longer than we'd like. A tragedy, those two small letters tacked on the end. A phrase once so endearing, reassuring, inspiring now turned cold, unwelcoming, distant. As the people once cherished fade to memory, as the emotions once felt become extinct, we try and mourn them as fallen pieces in a fallen world. But we need not regret. We think the tragedy is in the past tense, in the ending, the nevermore. But the tragedy is in the past. The present is free. The future is waiting. Your life is ahead of you, bright and unscathed. go. live.
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Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 2:56 PM UTC
The Tragedy of Past Tense
He loved you. You knew her. They passed on. I went away. The past can remain with us, longer than we'd like. A tragedy, those two small letters tacked on the end. A phrase once so endearing, reassuring, inspiring now turned cold, unwelcoming, distant. As the people once cherished fade to memory, as the emotions once felt become extinct, we try and mourn them as fallen pieces in a fallen world. But we need not regret. We think the tragedy is in the past tense, in the ending, the nevermore. But the tragedy is in the past. The present is free. The future is waiting. Your life is ahead of you, bright and unscathed. go. live.
if you wait long enough, any defeat becomes a victory.
thepoliticalpoet
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Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 2:56 PM UTC
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