Retrospect was once my magic wand
I could swing it around
Create the harmony that I often lost.
On days that bit me
Cracking skin, dungeon dread,
Due the outside frost
In a jiffy – I’d pen down my gloomiest thoughts.
The pain I wrote of was not pain at all
It was merely a fiery waterfall
And I could swim through it
Oh, how glad I was!
But my magic wand is now
Split in two
I can no longer weave magic
The restlessness of abetting clues –
Hiding in my closet, for some,
They’re stories I barely hum.
In retrospect now lies the unthinkable
Gory, lifeless – a tragedy unwritten


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