Time after time,
Line after line,
Rhyme after rhyme,
Every verse I write,
Every letter sent–
They’ve all gone unnoticed,

Like yelling into a void,
My voice lost and fading;
I wait for the echoes
But they never come–
The silence loud on the dark side,
And there is no point in waiting.
After all, you never did say a word;
Your voice, a memory forgotten,
One I’m convinced I never heard,
But one I think about often.

Time wasted away,
Nights slipped into days,
But nothing good ever stays,
You’re gone before the early rays–
And promises mean nothing
Shattered like fragile glass,
The shards lay broken
Like a heart-wrenching token;
But what’s gone is gone,
And the past is in the past.

Songs we never sang
Once cut me like daggers,
But their memories remain untouched
And for that, I am glad.
Perhaps it’s comforting to know
I can make my peace with the world,
And fall back into the arms of music
If I’m ever sad.
It was something we never had,
Nor anything we’ll ever have.

So, time after time,
Line after line,
Rhyme after rhyme,
With every verse I write,
I’m letting go of what could’ve been,
Embracing what comes my way.
Perhaps not today,
Nor tomorrow,
Nor anytime soon,
But it’ll get better someday.

~© Shubhangi Srinivasan.

Featured Image by James Pritchett on Unsplash

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