Adolescent love,
Two beings ignorant of the word,
Results in pain,
That can haunt those that are the descendants of those two,

The beginning of the end is at youth.
It slowly begins to build up,
Brick by brick,
A wall formed,
From something that shouldn’t have been.
Unable to be blown down by the Big Bad Wolf.

Trapped.
Nothing to do,
All signs point to procrastination,
Why?
To distract ones self,

Yet marching in on you,
An entire army of “what if’s”,
Along with their commander,
Could’a, Should’a, Would’a,

Sentences ending with a floating hook,
A “period” as its underlying shadow,
Sentences tossed around,
Hot potato.

Feeling returns.
Like a bad taste in your mouth
No relief for the burning acid

Yet the genesis of the pain,
Comes from a past decision before your time,
Unable to change the unfortunate,
Stuck… forever.
Only to grow older with wisdom and move on.