My past is my last of regrets, torture, and scorn.
I was so young, brash, and too rash in my decisions, it only dug deeper incisions.
My past is a dark tower, solely built in guilt.
I look out the window covered in dust and rust, lightning peers at me through the dark clouds; Every door is shut, but I don't live alone , although I wish I could.
Fear and grief rang the doorbell three years ago, should've told them no, instead I show them in.
Fear told me that I'd never become bold to say no, and would haunt me until I'm old.
I replied that I'm sick of him following me around, and in some time, I'll quit wallowing and throw him out.
I know to be free, I must fight my thoughts of reluctance's greed.
I walked up to Fear and slapped him in the face, told him to get out of my place. He became so angry, he threatened he'd hang me.
I said he's had his fun, now he better run, and I remember when you used to beat and harass me,but you couldn't surpass me. You used to throttle me, but I won't stay in your bottle, your reign is about to topple.
Life is based on many choices, they posses many voices; But don't allow your past mistakes to define you, let them REFINE you.
Failure teaches, and learning from it breaks the breaches.