Streetcorner

I'm supposed to write for the fat lady
but her song is, and should be, the last thing on my mind.
I miss the comforts of the past,
I can't seem to forget all that.
Standing here, out on the blustery corner,
a crossroads where the former meets the latter;
I am in the now, the present.
My life is turning onto a new path
 and the new beginning should be drawing my eye.
Yet here I stand motionless
squinting down my former course,
what would have been.
All I knew is still on that street, moving ahead.
 I'm looking for more sadness I suppose,
thanking the stars, I have poor eyesight.
I wrap my coat about me and make the turn,
constantly looking over my shoulder.
I will never learn.