Dreaming of What If

In this cold cell, I sit and dream,

of paths un-walked, of childhood's gleam.

What if I'd stayed where grandpa's voice,

was the guiding star of a young boy's choice?

I see the old house, a shelter strong,

where stories and love would right the wrong.

With grandma’s cookies and grandpa’s tales,

would I have avoided these iron rails?

What if my other grandma hadn’t left so soon.

Taken away under a sorrowful moon?

Her laughter echoes in memories dim,

a beacon lost, a love grown thin.

Her early departure, a wound so deep.

Stolen whispers in the nights I weep,

her wisdom lost to the shadows of time.

Her absence, my life’s silent crime.

Would her gentle hand have guided me right,

kept me from the shadows of this night?

A boy lost without her gentle gaze,

wandering through life in a foggy haze.

If I could turn back time, rewrite the past,

find the peace that never lasts.

In the arms of those who loved me true,

would I be here, under skies so blue?

In this prison cell, the past does dwell.

A different story I wish to tell,

of love retained, of lives not marred,

of roads not taken, and dreams unscarred.