Scrap Paper

None of it feels right

Old words written that make no sense

Believes now clouded in doubt

Only questions ever come

I read and re-read

I don’t know this person

Wondering if it was even me

How drunk was I

I never imagined this is what I believed

Going through these old writings

Studying these pages

Like staring at the face of a stranger

Who was I

Foolish and young

Someone I would never befriend

A past unfamiliar with the present

I should burn these letters

But I won’t

I will put them away

Maybe in a few years they will all make sense again


Day #396 SJD © 2021 Segundo Juan Devora. All Rights Reserved.

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