Attempts at poetry

0345 Poetry#2 – Not Again.

Stuck. Lost.
All but me speed on in a blur.
Looped. Dazed.
Where you see straight, I see a curve.

Round and round, I walk the same lanes.
Same old mistakes. Same old pains.
No way out, no way in.
Forever doomed to repeat the same sin.

Familiar. Warm.
Like earmarked pages of a favorite book.
Allure. Hope.
Maybe this time, I’ll make it work.
But the book does not know me,
It neither starts nor ends anew.
All that awaits is the exact same story.
Forgive, an overlooked detail or two.

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Almost. Maybe.
Words that’d someday kill me.
Let go. Live.
Oh I’m trying, do believe me.
I get the lesson, I see all the signs.
Makes no difference to a stubborn heart.
A million times my mind was made.
But moving on is an elusive art.

Quit whining over heartbreaks,they say,
bigger things could’ve been at stake.
Who decides this scale? On whose authority?
So, an infant’s wail beats a widow’s weep?
Rotten tooth or ebbing remorse,
what’s hurt is hurt, what’s cut will bleed.

It’s not history that repeats itself,
It’s we who compulsively repeat history.
But why?
Perhaps, a misplaced sense of closure?
To take a closer look at things come a second try.
Perhaps, a chance at time travel?
To fix the past and set the conscience clear.

Perhaps, its much more primal, a sense of fear.
Desperately mending traversed paths,
should there be none left to walk at all.

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Fight me.