Friday, September 16, 2011

Distraction

The Past returns: it rears its heads at me
A joyous moment flashes by to taunt,
A thousand failures follow through to haunt;
A sheepish grin with great ferocity.
I see it fade and morph with Destiny

O! visions grand, a happy mental jaunt;
Then nightmares, grander still, my psyche daunt,

No effort made to hide hostility.

Distractions all! I start, senses returned,
Old Father Time still faithfully walks on,
Not changing course, nor speed, nor looking back

Was her fate not grave when her eyes she turned?
Begone, both Past and Destiny! Alone
I'll follow Father Time's slow, steady track.


15 September 2011

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