Progression

Time across time a loss,

What was does not remain.

Though setting may stay constant,

Perceptions always change.

Some spend their whole lives mourning,

For what was and what should be,

Making loss the gifts of now,

Condemning what will be.

Stand up and look around!

You relic of past good times.

See what life now offers,

When embraced and not passed by.

For that of then was beauty true,

And should be seen as so.

But perceive it now as fabric,

In the makings of your soul.

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