Sonnet 1

If there were only some way for me to
reach back and touch the love I used to know
I’m sure that all that we have both been through
would ease my forgiveness in what time’s shown.
And yet my heart cringes still with past pain
at the memory of what could have been.
All that was said cannot be said again;
as time’s cruel clock moves forward still unseen.
Promises made in vain that still seem right,
their haunting echo coursing through my head;
whispers uttered softly in the dark night—
memories reminding me what is dead.
If only time could cease its’ churn and bind
and send me back, who knows what I would find.