Blast From the Past
Don’t come at me with a blast from the past
My past is forgotten
By the Begotten
Don’t remind me of my mistakes
That you throw at me as constant earthquakes
That makes you sound like some kind of quack
With the sound of a smack
Waiting for your next snack
I never claimed to be perfect
You don’t have to point out my imperfections
That hit like terminal infections
I have to face my own reflections
In the mirror, in the eyes of others
Remember this, my friend do unto others
As you would do unto self or you will find yourself
Alone with oneself
By Patricia Kriegel
© 2009 Patricia Kriegel
(All rights reserved)
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