Thirteenth Poem: Change

THe sting of change stabs my tender heart repeatedly. 

Some change is good, but other change is too powerful and horrid to take. 

I cannot reverse the curse. 

With change, important things are lost, never to be found. 

Places, people, and things are left behind. 

Holding on to the fond memories of what used to be. 

Heart aching with nostalgia, and longing for the past. 

Wishing. 

Hoping. 

Longing.