As I travelled through Wiltshire
On a Christmas train
I found that I had no real past
And my memories were no longer painful
My past was in a box and I was the only key holder
One cannot change the past
It is open to interpretation
That is all
The future will always be abstract
And will remain that way
When my night ended
I had always considered
That there would be
A spectacular dawn
A sunrise of pinks and oranges
Reds and blues
But this was not the case
As most of my pains
Had been self chosen