Ghosts Of Xmas Past

A previous past the futures a blast. Poetic tale of a dealing realtionship and it's fate.

Sitting awake in a dreamlike state waiting for feelings to evaporate.
Took a trip to the past it wasn't a blast the feelings i had were not meant to last.
Walking around feet off the ground wheeling and dealing turning pennies to pounds.
Mounting the cash building the stash while my other half was brazen and brash.
Had the house had the car was due to go far almost made it to the local spar.
Warned by a mate to keep it a date .... Whoops inhaled to late shit sealed my fate
I walked out the door my stash on the floor what was it all for.
Left the house and the car i traveled not far.
Closed the door now I'm poor still searching for more.
Put my past life to rest no dealing that's best.
New place to reside not governed by pride i wont let it slide my past's gracefully died.
Here and now is my task what more could i ask.
Cleaned up my act made a new contract my self confessed pact.
Got a new plan I'm molding a man at least i give a dam.
The future who knows what comes and goes good things trouble, woe I'm glad i don't know only time tells and shows.


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Inspiration for poetry can come from absolutely anywhere or from any past or anticipated life experience desire ambition love lust hate doubt even negative feelings and emotions are responsible for outburts of creativity in the meekest of personalities