She unseals, unfolds, refolds, and seals again

A letter of long gone joy and outworn pain,

Engulfed in a wave of unprecedented fear,

She hurriedly wipes away a lonesome tear,

For the bygone memories still posed a threat

Like the undealt cards of a misplaced bet!


“We are products of our past, but we don’t have to be prisoners of it.”
Rick Warren

Featured Image from Pexels


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