Through the window of time
I look out on the past.
I can see myself,
But I cannot reach me.
I call out to stop -
Stop embracing people who shouldn't be embraced,
Stop saving people who need to save themselves,
Stop giving everything When something should be held back.
I stand,
Hands on the window pane,
Disheartened by my own ignorance.
It is so clear as I look back.
It hurts to know I cannot be heard
Calling back through time.
That my own voice cannot reach me
And stop the actions that have taken place.
Is there a window somewhere in the future
Where I will stand And try to warn the me I am now
To stop punishing myself,
Stop living in fear,
Stop endlessly seeking redemption
For events I cannot change?
All of my regret is just
Tears on the window
Pain behind the glass.
