The Past is heavy but it only weighs 17 Gram..

It was a heavy burden,

Penned in a brown journal. 

Of mistakes and misery,

Of hopes and Whataboutery! 

--

Years flew and the attempts grew,

What has now become of you?

It used to ask me, staring me in my face,

My own journal, whom I couldn't face.

--

It felt heavy, like every aspirant’s past

Years of failures and hopes,

The gap between actions and thoughts

Really made an ugly contrast!

--

This journal too had a journey of it own

From being a hopeful memoir 

It had become a leaky Cauldron,

No matter the tasty new hopes I brew, 

Discarding it has now become overdue. 

--

So on a fine gloomy evening,

I cut my self constraint mooring

And decided to set it ablaze,

The black ink of my past

Smeared on its rotten on yellow page.

--

But the ugly journal burned with flames beautiful

Perhaps saying I have taught you plentiful. 

Why was it applauding its own demise

Was it whispering the Phoenix to rise?

--

As I dusted its ashes into a garbage bag, 

I thought I had let go of my baggage, 

But the journal, now dead, felt awfully light. 

Its last story was right in my sight. 

--

Who isn’t weighed down by their failures?

The dead journal asked.

Don’t the old folk say, they are stepping stones?

The mistakes will definitely come to haunt.

Someday. One day. No doubt.

--

But when your self esteem is under attack,

And just when you fail to see the track, 

if you can just stay calm,

You will see, as I did,

The ​past might be heavy

But it only weighs 17 gram...

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PS: Tried everything...still couldn't format it.