not to pray or honour,
not to think or to worship,
but to grieve.
I lament for the past,
unchangeable now,
lived yet not used,
remembered but not accepted.
I bemoan the future,
the one I never had,
filled with potential already lost,
dreams unreachable.
I mourn for the present,
overshadowed by what has been,
darkened by a fear of tomorrow,
slipping out of my grasp.
(For Lisa)