Some say the past does not exist.
We cannot venture there.
We cannot change what happened once,
Or redeem it with a prayer.
Yet what I am today descends
From all I used to be,
And those who claims to lack regrets
I view suspiciously.
Sometimes, at night, in slumber’s depths,
A long lost face I see.
In the light of other days
A while you bide with me.
I have the memory of your kisses;
Their sweetness I recall.
Then weep when daybreak draws me back
from when we had it all.