Yesterday That Must Stay in the Past

A knock on the door of dream, in an intermittent sleep, and frequent awakenings, and then the seeking of memory of the dream, and understanding, and searching for the source and the reason why, and then the darkness of current memories, alive in the recent past, love that is lost, and the lack of that warm embrace, of the nearness of blood, and then, what is of blood, cannot escape, cannot leave to find another place, and then memories of the distant past, children and love and the treasure of parenthood, knowing then, that it was something to treasure, that wouldn't return at any other time, but the clock was ticking onward, and time became older and there was aging in all of the players, and then a revertion to my early time, and the vacancy that was known to me then, and the emptiness of the time, was the very thing that thrilled me into growth, into strength, into progression, and then I had to look at you, without that experience, without my experience, in our relationship, and there I perceived difference, and then our imperfection arose, and in all of my selfishness, I lie in a place of guilt, and in all of my guilt, I stand in a hopeless place, and I look to where love had been in this place, where I hadn't been true, had not been complete to you, and then I allowed you to wander on your way, thinking that freedom was the gift that I could give you, not knowing, that freedom could not be a friend to you, and this evening, just like the dreams of the last night fill me with dread, with my disappointment for you in me.