From the corner of my eye
I looked.
Trailing right behind me
as I followed fate
was my past.
Wrapped in dirty linen
and appalled mendacity.
A crooked hand
or two
had embellished my days
with a ludicrous (un) truth.
I became
the serenity of the ocean surface,
the trepidations beneath
unseen and unheard.
I carried on
slowly and steadily.
Rising above a distorted yesterday
and an irrevocable ordeal.
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