This Thought.

The past is a funny thing.

It’s really got me thinking,

If it’ll always be seen corruptly.

Why can’t I look behind me and smile?

Instead I look forward and think “it’ll be a while,”

Until I overcome this obstacle.

When will I look back and not feel so hostile?

I want a happiness for my past,

And not gloom whenever I’m asked

What’s made me who I am,

Anyways who gives a damn

Why I’m me in the first place?

What matters is that I am, and for that I say grace.

Because I haven’t been corrupted by this world,

Instead it’s made my heart unfurled.

It’s grown in size.

It doesn’t hide in disguise,

Anymore.

No, the past hasn’t destroyed my soul.

Just the memory of it,

Sometimes drags me into a pit,

Of remorse.

But it doesn’t last long,

Until I realize it was all wrong.

Because if it wasn’t, my past would be my present,

And not something I resent.

Instead my present is my future,

And my past is history.

For that I should be thankful,

That today I am whole

Of nothing but love,

Because of the lessons I’ve learned,

And the stripes I’ve earned.