Sometimes it consumes you.
But most of the time,
It's a nagging voice.
A constant reminder.
Like a GPS.
Screaming at you.
You made the wrong turn.
And life is a one-way street.
You can't fix anything.
Because a life that you deep down loved,
Has hit a dead end.
There's no more of the time
You thought you had.
So the GPS keeps you up at night.
Grief. Pacing. Silence.
All you have left of them,
Are memories.
All you have left of that cherished life,
Are the could've-beens.
Why didn't you say what you felt?
All he needed was a signal.
A blinker.
A signal to show him
You were gonna take a different turn this time,
And cherish that time,
With a cherished life.
But he was like a deer.
With a life that was taken out suddenly.
So suddenly.
By the flow of a one-way street.
And it's not fair.
Sometimes you wish for a U-turn.
And sometimes,
You just feel like it should've been you.
All you can hope for,
Is not taking the wrong turn again.
All you can try to do,
Is trade in the GPS for a map.
And live for the speed bumps,
The traffic jams, and the green lights,
Of the lives around you,
And yours.

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