When forced to take a
backward glance, we flinch and raise objections.
Our guilt and loss confirm us in our mortal imperfections.
That's not to say our lives contain no triumphs and achievements.
But often they're concealed behind our sorrows and bereavements.
Mistakes are etched in who we are, in vain we seek exemption
By squandering our precious days in acts of self redemption.