I held the past like a worn-out ball,
Stitched with sorrow, soaked in rain,
Each thread a reminder I couldn't quiet,
Each tear a trace of old, sour pain.
I walked through days where shadows loomed,
Footsteps echoing forgotten times,
Holding on to ghosts and memories ,
Feeding silence, molding fears.
But the dawn spoke soft in silver tones,
A language only tha healing know
"Let it fall, the weight you bear,
Let the pain go where the cold wind blows."
So I opened hands that once clenched tight,
Dropped the names, the blame, the cries,
And watched them drift like falling leaves
Under forever changin skies.
The past is not a chain, but ah whisper ,
It lingers only if I say—
And I am not the same as i once was,
I'm lighter now. I've walked away.
Let pain be rain, which let love remain,
Let time be teacher, and not a thief—
We build from scars, not bury them,
And in that truth, I find relief.