ONE OF THOSE DAYS

It's one of those few days where you're totally sane
Where your conscience is awakened
Not weakened
Or deadened
Yet, you're saddened
You sit and brood over the past 
The pain seems to last
You remember your deeds
And misdeeds
You sit in despair
In need of repair
You just sit, into empty space you're staring
The fact that you're miserable is glaring
Your thoughts, condemning 
You focus on everything wrong and it is consuming
Like a Wise Man said, "We're products of our past, 
But we don't need to be prisoners of it"
But you've failed to realize it
Now you're battling a pain you fear would last
I hope this misery will be the last 
I hope you let go the pain of your past