Why does yesterday’s love collect dust on a pedestal in mind?
Today’s taken for granted and compared to the one left behind
Why does the memory haze of yesterday magnify and sharpen
Smells and colors of roses on your first happy Valentines Day?
Why does yesterday’s poem hold more beauty than one today?
Were words more eloquently said or did ears deceptively hear?
Did time filter anger, boredom, fears, frustration and dry tears”
Pain, desolation and lost commitment to the future years?
Don’t cling to the past like friendships that did not survive, last
Love, we believed to be, only a mirage, an act for all to see
Where went the tenderness, the tears shed for love that seared
Only the page here, while fresh ones cool the skin and your lips
Names and endearments of the past rise unattended like slang
Fangs of inadvertent poison injected lethally under the skin
Like a sharp knife into her underbelly uttering the wrong name
Beware the tongue that in it’s past obsession frequently slips
Like taking the name of the most sacred thing in vain on lips
Sealed, to the past, embracing tenderness and love potential
While yesterday, only a mist, fails to survive the lethal sun
A new day, new moment, a new chance to start fresh, again.