It's funny how the past,
Carries burdensome memory.
Self image and assumptions,
Replay heartache and self loathing.

As time trickles by,
We blink and we've aged.
We find such old thoughts,
Define our present cage.

And you may find yourself,
Presented by the likes of Christmas past.
A wonderous haunt,
Rattling the chains of your caged inner trash.

That's what I now face.
Emotional electrocution woke me up.
To see what could have been,
And remind me...
That I'm stuck.