The decisions of our youth will haunt us
forever, like the faces of old lovers.
Ghosts, constantly reminding us of what
was… what could have been… and consequently, what will be.
Did we make the right decisions?
Did we inadvertently create our own
peril?
How could we have fucked up so badly that
we pay the price forever?
Give your pennies to the pauper to try
and sway your luck, but you are a fool to try and fool the ghost. For ghosts
always know what led to this.
To this moment when you look back at your
life and the only thing you see are words on the wind.
Whispering “how the fuck did I get here?”
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