If I met my younger self

How would he look at me?

Straight between the eyes

Or shy away crookedly?

Would he question how it happened

and ashamed by all my answers

Would he slap me in the face,

Then storm away in anger?

Im striking all these notions

Just like I strike a flame-

To watch it flash before my eyes

and leave just like it came.

But I cant shake my shadow,

Nor pause and reconcile

Regret lay behind my hopes

And in my heart defiles

Since inside I know the truth

Afterall that kid yet lives

Less and less each day

I wonder if he’ll ever forgive.

And he can love or hate me

Either way we’ll have that in common

Im still proud of myself daily,

But I’m building peter pan’s coffin.