Maze of Recollection

Within darkness my soul reaches
Toward the light at the end of a maze
Collecting pockets of forgotten memory as I run
through the many twists and turns
Narrowly missing the dead ends of things regretted and lostThe gaps in the stone walls branch out like paths
of birth and death and after-life, of things that happened and the “If”
The nagging probability of possibility that dares me to take chances

Chances that force me to leave these things behind like forgotten baggage
from the boarding station that could’ve been
but never was

I look down as I slow to a walk out of here
marvelling at the bulging pockets of the coat
filled with shards in the shape of scrapbooking
of things I loved, things I missed, things I never forgot

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