Shadows of my Past

I see the actors of my past,
Some part of my present. Some have faded.
Some linger on, ghosts haunting and jaded.
Wait, Stop. Was it me floating.
Whispering, yearning to be heard, still scheming, gloating.

I see the actors of my past,
She there blushing. Smiling her private smile
Hiding her fangs of desire, wanting and vile.
Did I know her? Maybe. A part of her I wonder.
Those eyes gleamed, then withdrew in surrender.

I see the actors of my past,
Money, it is never enough. Is it?
Disease, loneliness, aching joints it is.
Dark circles under his droopy eyes, wrinkled forehead.
Golden objects, shiny, glittering. He lies pale on his bed.

I see the actors of my past,
“Mirror mirror on the wall, am I the fairest of them all”
Flashing her glorious smile, she stands proud. So tall.
Vanity, oh dear vanity, her favorite sin.
Conceit, throngs of admirers and all of their kin.

I see the actors of my past,
Dimples in her cheeks. Sunshine, angel on earth.
Love blossomed. Touch, want laced with lust.
Despair. Wanton woman, tears driving her blind.
Luscious pink lips. Her dimples no longer charmed his mind.

I see the actors of my past,
With a start I wake up. Look, they are all me,
Each one of them. No, I refuse to see.
It is me who acted, plotted, and lied,
Wanted more than my fair share and just died.

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