To

All the silent lonely nights,
That that through the years we’ve endured,
All the memories and fantasies held,
By the heart each day insured,
Yet as we look at having more,
Is it just the past we feel,
While we push for less and less,
And we hide a thing thats real.
 
 
We miss each other and know its true,
While somehow we started with more,
And now we turn it all around,
To close the open door,
Push and pull becomes the act,
That somehow turns more to less,
To have and hold soon slips away,
And our walls become the test.
 
 
Instead of talking more and more,
It seems we both retreat,
Lost inside our fears and pain,
That the present refuses to meet,
We now hide the things we feel,
Ignoring whats in the heart,
As the thing thats held us together,
Becomes the thing that drives us apart.
 
 
We retrace familiar actions,
A product of the past,
The hand of fear holds on to us,
Is it all that we can grasp,
A familiar place with repeated steps,
While to the past we now regress,
And though we think that we have more,
Each day we’re holding less.
 
 
We purchased tickets for this ride,
But will we board the train,
Or will we hide it all again,
With only the past to remain,
We could never drift apart,
Yet to the past we now regress,
Both our hearts hold plenty more,
But will tomorrow hold something less?

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the past

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