š§ The Past is a Place of Reference, Not a Place of Residence š
The past is the past, leave it behind, A weight on the shoulders, a thief of the mind. The past is the past, it cannot repay, It steals from tomorrow, it clouds out today. When all things went wrong and the shit hit the fan, Jul's and I struggled, we did all we can. We wallowed in pity, we anchored in rage, But wasted our time on an unwritten page. If only back then I had chosen to see, That forward was where all the answers would be. Like glass in a car, the windscreen is clear, The side views are helpful, the rear holds a smear. Ninety-five (%) forward, three sideways in glance, Two in the rear view, a moment, perchance. But I drove with my vision fixed hard on the past, No wonder the journey was bumpy, not fast. The past is the past, donāt let it remain, Turn to the present, break free from the chain. The future is open, the road lies ahead, Drive into the living, not the things that are dead. When I blinkered my focus to forward alone, The path opened wide, the past just a moan. My speed was increased, my vision enhanced, Motivation multiplied, success not by chance.