The time traveling construction worker

These tears breed happiness, time waits, so scandals. Holding on till it can handle us. Waiting to break us down, when we forget it’s endless. To often we leave it to fate, let our minds debate while the moment hesitates to wait and it becomes to late. You see, we can’t change the past. It’s locked behind a mirror, triple pain glass. And if we let it, it guides our mast to unknown shores where happiness can’t last. With one broken day that memory becomes a stain that won’t scrub away. And that’s the price we pay while we fail to realize that we shaped it that way. There is no time traveling construction worker, no searcher, no memory lurker, trained to make days shorter and pains blurrier. No white out bleach, memory sucking leach, or wall that can be breached to a place of peace. There is only this time around, what happens here and now, and how loud we let the echoes of pain sound as they leave our world, straight into the ground.

Hold up, stick your nose up.........