I think at times, things are never
as they seem,
Shadows shape-shift  
before our eyes,
Clinging to the false
promise of "what could've been"
Blinding us to the truth
that lies in plain sight.

We bang our heads against the
walls of reality,
Desperate rewrite what
cannot be changed,
Clutching at illusions-things
intangible, unreal,
Lost in the ache of dreams
that will never be.

"What ifs," "could've beens," "should have beens,"
hold no weight,
They freeze us in place, or
pull us backwards
Chained to the endless
cycle of trying to grasp
What was never ours to
hold, never ours to mend.

So choose to move forward,
to claim your tomorrow,
Focus on the threads you
can weave today,
On the seeds you can nature
the paths you can pave.
Let go of the past-it cannot serve you now,
But the present awaits,
ready to be shaped by your
hands