Past a puddle

My past is a puddle.

 

As I grew up the puddle dried up.

 

But I kept refilling it with my tears,

 

keeping the hurt fresh.

 

Its time to leave the puddle,

 

time for it dry out.

 

To make statues with the mud that's left behind.

 

To live here and now.

 

To use my tears to show emotions of present day things.

 

Rather then to weep over things long gone and unchangeable.

 

to weep a ocean of happy tears

 

and a fresh tears of sadness to wash away the dust of day to day life.

 

to walk on and away.

tears of goodbye to freshen the way