The Past is Dead

Free Verse

The past is dead.

I buried in the back yard

Next to the cat

Under a few straggling wildflowers.

 

It wasn't all bad, really.

There was laughter and joy

Excitement and fear

And yes, there were tears

And hard lessons I didn't want to learn.

 

I lived with it my whole life;

Until it grew old and fat and heavy

Sitting ponderously in my lap so that

I no longer wanted to move.

I stroked it, fed it, and carried it

And I loved it as much as I hated it

Because for all its heaviness

It was mine.

 

And as I sat there, unmoving, I tried

To remember it the way I wanted to;

Young and playful, and free

Until I realized at last

That it was merely sick and old and heavy

A burden that I served.

 

I wept as I buried it,

Missing its warm familiarity

Afraid of my sudden emptiness

Unfamiliar with my new-found freedom.

 

I said a prayer, and I meant it.

The tears I cried were real

And the heartache deep;

But when I walked away at last,

My steps were light.

 

The past is dead.

I didn't kill it;

It just died of old age.

And I?

I'm walking again.

Reviews

[Katelin L.]

I really loved the images you used in this.

[V]

I like this one much, as well. Free verse style, good imagery. I like your choice of words, it's a write that leaves the reader being anywhere, just thinking. It has this kind of sober but also nostalgic tone in a way, I can only feel but hardly describe.

[Lisa]

Thanks! If I have a mission, I suppose that is it...to bring the reader with me in the emotion or situation...to make them feel something. Thanks for your review!

[Healing Star]

Very well written Lisa, you captured your emotion really nicely. It takes a lot to do what you did, you saw your illusion self and said good bye to it. I woke one morning crying, not knowing why and later I was shown that it was like a funeral for my illusion self. It is hard to let all that was what you held onto Go, but once we see it for what it is, it is what we have to do, there is no other way. I sometimes miss a few of the things, that he enjoyed like Lions Football, which I have not seen but one game on thanksgiving for the past two years. But there are so many, many more wonderful things in my life now that replace what He held dear. But still it's hard. It's hard because that was the only me I knew for so many years. But now I pray that I will have the courage to continue to step out of that old story and into the Story of who I really Am. thanks for writing this, helped me remember that lesson.

[Lisa]

Thanks so much. Always makes me joyful to feel others can relate.

[Iris]

This is amazing, Keep up the good work. I feel this could have been part of an English Literature course. I look forward to your writing.

[Lisa]

Thanks, Iris! I appreciate it.

[Blank Heart]

I enjoyed reading that. I know how you feel. Only difference, mine is still alive and well.

[Lisa]

Thanks, Blank Heart. I know...it never really dies, does it? We've all got ghosts in the attic!