The gnawing memories
Plaque me at night
They pull and they nag
They sting and they bite.

They continue to haunt me
They won’t let me go
I try to escape them
They’re shallow, they’re low.

They appeal to my fears
Attach to my soul
I’ve run out of time
Now, I’m growing old.

The clock has run out
My days in the sun
Have faded, have withered
I’ve been outdone.

No chance to recoup
What I have lost
I knew the risks
I knew the cost.

Author: Patty Richardson

Writer: Film scripts, poetry, short stories.

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