Walter_Vego

finally begin,

to understand. 

 

That a fledgeling mind needs guidance, 

someone to set the course,

for lack thereof breeds violence,

spins tales of remorse. 

 

Where's the village, where's the town,

where are the people who would frown,

when they see you act,

like a fool.

 

Where's the anvil to set you straight, 

to hammer out all this hate,

bring the grindstone, and a bed of wool,

you need sharpening, 

 

Blunt

Little

Tool.

 

The past's the past, it doesn't matter,

try your might, it won't shatter,

lay down the mallet, let it pass, and go

beyond the senseless chatter.

 

Its burning fingers,

squeeze your lungs and scratch your heart,

its desperation on your cheeks lingers,

and you fear a return to start.

 

But it fades.

 

It

will

fade.

 

In the mirror, here, you see,

I know you as you are, were and will be,

completely, 

you, are me.

 

It is time to part, my task now done,

but before the sands, before they come,

I have an ask, just,

just this one.

 

When you see the world with eyes anew, 

and enjoy the comfort of tea,

remember that I was there and,

smile

 

for me.