Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2016
There comes a moment,
the recognition,
that the past is but a forlorn memory,
a figment of imagination entrancing its captors over and over
so,
we begin to look forward,
towards this alluring light,
this solid hope of a future,
thus paving the way for greatness,
forget not the longings of your past,
but use them to shape your ever-broadening future
Meg Howell
Written by
Meg Howell  Georgia
(Georgia)   
355
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems