Thorns Of Gones

Crying for the gones,
To be trying to stay strong, 
Sometimes waiting for none,
Or on losing turns.
Yes we did,
True indeed,
We all are guilty for choosing thorns.

Hard to resist the urge to complete.
Though we didn't sow,
We'd walked by it.

On going back in life,
To the memories of time,
Even when faded,
With the taste of lime,
That world without shine,
Staying there for long,
Holding doors for wrong,
That lying for fun,
& escaping the runs,
We all are guilty,
For choosing thorns.