Vishal Dutia

Memories of my unkept promises,
Haunt me like a ghostly apparition.
Regret and melancholy, my constant companions,
As I ponder my broken trust and failed ambition.

Time has passed, and the house stands abandoned,
A symbol of the promises I made but never kept.
The weeds and vines now crawling up the walls,
A testament to the neglect that I’ve wept.

But in this desolate emptiness, I find redemption,
And the hope of forgiveness begins to grow.
For even though my promises were left unkept,
The seeds of change were planted long ago.

So I’ll tear down the boards and let in the light,
And tend to the weeds and vines with care.
For in this brokenness, I’ll find the strength,
To keep my promises and start anew, if only to repair.