Life's Little Lamentation

The following poem was written a very long time ago, and kept hidden in a book which I just recently unearthed from the pile of trash in my house. I have written so many poems that I lost count, and therefore not really sure if I had posted this before or not. Still going to post it anyway. a tribute to thee, in fond memories of morrow winter's night and storytellers' fright, a truthful acknowledgment in misery of life ceased be and traversed thee through time which collided with songs not rhymed, dreaded and dreamt suffereth in vain;- finally tho thee escaped to a better place I supposed! but where? which sings forever of jolly laughter never, and not a summer sun could shine to warm the cold dwelling's fine field of feathery dew thee waved they flew and swirled and loomed a dark shadow, should it be immortalized, this meadow - within this chilling choking cage, fond memories vintage-d.

If a hero can go back in time, why can't I? why can't I go back in time? if there were such heroes with such special powers why can't I go back in time and try to change what I learned from nursery rhymes - replace them with cries of children, music of battlefields and words of two lovers who hate one another. If a hero can go back in time, why can't I? If I can go back in time, I can prepare myself for myself and you for yourself. Then I can see my mom and ask her to give birth on the first of January. If a hero can go back in time, why can't I? I would go and tell you that I would love you so much but you would not know if I had not gone back in time and told you so. If a hero can go back in time, why can't I? If there were such heroes with such special powers, I would tell them to tell me not to write this.