For What Lies Hidden

A collection of all my poetry in an order I think makes reading it even more fun and exciting.


118. What It Was

It was my past

Littered with unatoned sins

Which visited me

As the stormy gale blew.


It was my past

Which I could not forget

That pounced upon me

As I turned towards the setting sun.


It was my past

And all I had laid to rest

Which emerged from the grave

As I saw the sea collapse upon the beach.


And it was my past

Which has rendered me a wreck

Lying in this bed, in this room

As all around me the world falls apart.

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