Holding On

The past is over. Let it go
And welcome in tomorrow.
Our days on earth are measured out
And more we cannot borrow.

Such sage advice, for sure, and yet
Instruction I can’t follow.
The letting go part is, to me,
A pill I cannot swallow.

And so I cling to memories
And objects from the past,
In disbelief that all those years
Have disappeared so fast.

I realize that by holding on,
I’m mired in the muck.
It once felt comfortable in there,
But now I’ve gotten stuck.

It’s time to shed my former self,
Embrace the older new;
I wouldn’t bet on my success –
It’s hard as hell to do.