I can't see the future, what will be will be,

or is it all a consequence of me?

Did I not show my love for all to see?

So why were they all taken from me?

Did I ask for the bombs that fell in the war?

So why do they seem to land at my door?

Was I vicious and cruel to all who came near?

So why are my dreams still filled with fear?

I can't change the past, what has gone has gone,

Or was it a consequence of what I've done?

© Amanda Beattie 2002

Click below to return to front page