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Vincent Barrowcliffe


A Mirror Of The Past


I glanced into the mirror of the past,
And, in through it, I fell
Into the times old,
I was shown, where once, did I dwell.

And there, stood me, choosing the untrue path,
Tried I, to stop, but I could not,
As it was but my past,
And, there with sorrow, I was fraught.

This glance, now surceased,
My past, away breezed,
What I have now, shall not be,
These memories were, but once, me.

There is none a companion,
As I walk toward my end,
And, there shall be none, a friend
There shall be none, a friend.

Submitted: Friday, February 15, 2013
Edited: Friday, February 15, 2013

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