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