Sporadic meetings, clear thy vision,
And hold on to the past as if it were nothing,
But a fragment of shattered glass.
There is no reason that it must be done like this-
It just is, always has been.
No reason to alter such an old way.
When it's worked perfectly for so many days.
So many decades.
Let the past wither slowly, do not pick it up-
Let it sit.
For if you are cut by it.
You cannot be healed from its touch.
A burning scar will be left for here on after.
Let the past wither slowly,
And don't pick up its shattered pieces.
No matter how lonely.
