The Past Is Won

When her past was left undone,
there are longings and needs.
A battle that her soul does bleed.
Carrying on all the while,
despite what she holds dear.
Wanting’s plus or minus a degree,
she does so clearly see.
There is a plea for normalcy,
evidenced by her decree.
I light to gleam,
though minute it may seem.
A vision of the past unmasked,
purified rewarded,
by a state of grace,
and unshielded face.
A hope and curiosity,
of what might be,
for she does see,
far past the horizon.
Bearing longings and needs that lay in wait.
Her prize.
The past is won,
make no mistake.
Linda Booth


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