My Mother always taught me,
That once you move on,
It's logical not to turn back,
I think the idea is trully wrong,
But who does it and grows strong?
Maybe looking back,
Can always make you see,
What life is and what life will be;
Spiritually I'm free,
That's why my soul roams the world,
Brings back to me the finest pearls,
Suggesting that this life of mine,
Is an uncovered jewel,
That in the time it took me to turn around,
I saw nothing but a life that was cruel.
In whispers I hear don't turn around,
And the numerous frowns,
That people raise,
Just so I can wake up one day,
And give praise,
To a life that I once threw away.