Poem: A Walk Backwards

I’m clawing  away from a past
That lashes itself to my legs, 
An invisible ball and chain 
Creating pain from its silent burden. 

With each step, it grows, 
Slows my pace until I’m moving
Backwards, 
A lack-luster attempt to 
Return to the days when 
I walked free. 

A backwards stroll
Leads to nothing but
The appearance of stupidity, 
Searching for a validity
That can be found nowhere
But within oneself, 
A dusty book upon a 
Forgotten shelf of self-worth. 

And thus, with each step I add 
A pound of memories, 
And keep reversing my pace
A stroll backwards 
Into the sad days
Of the inevitable collapse.  

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