Running Away

Had we done things differently then
Would now have changed?
A word in another place,
A transposition of a scowl for a smile,
A hand up instead of a push away?

Time drags and festers
In the open wound of memory.
Each junction becomes a dead end,
And every road leads to the same place,
Alone in front of a mirror

Where we cannot hide from ourselves,
And all truths are shown.
No faith, no philosophy nor ideology,
No dogma,
Saves us from us.