the past
is always behind us
one step
one step forward
two steps back
it follows us, waiting in the wings
it sleeps next to us in bed
it greets us in the morning
sometimes with regret
sometimes with longing
and melancholy
sometimes with beaming rays
of remembrance
it’s always there
waiting
for us
to recollect
and call collect
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem