The images that are
Burnt into my brain
That taunt me with their vividness
Are those moments when I was
Sacrificing my soul
For the wrong cause
Knowing it wasn’t the path to take
Knowing it wasn’t me but another so
In a lie I’d been
In your beam of pity.
It’s 22 years ago.
Doesn’t time matter to matter?
Images shine on, no fading
Would have chosen other moments.
If moments could be chosen and not just branded.