A Tear

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A Colour Image of a Sunny Day on a Beach with a Black and White Person - A Visual Metaphor for Depression

I am sad because I long for those fleeting good times and I wish that I might get them back, so that I could make them better, stronger, happier – anything just to show how much I cherish them.  I wish I could bottle them up and just live that life.

But the most precious things are not easily replaced.

And every time the world tears, I am reminded, abruptly and painfully, of that fact, that there goes another chance of replicating a good time.

It’s like my photograph has been set on fire and all I had was that photograph.  A flimsy, trivial and oh-so-easy-to-damage photograph of something long ago.

My hope is in the past.  A world, a life, a moment that cannot be repeated.

I wish for the impossible because I regret so much, because I fear so much, because I have lost so much.

The world tears.  And I weep.  For all that was lost and for all that could have been.  The world tears.  And I weep.  For I am lost and I do not know what will be.  I weep.

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One thought on “A Tear

I'd love to know what you think, concrit is especially welcomed on fiction pieces. Thank you.

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