“HOUR GLASS”

Top to bottom,
our future
slips past
our present.
Turning over,
our past is
again made
our future.

We are
what we were
and it is from
this
that we become
who we will be.

It is not
our future we are
afraid of,
but falling forward
into our past
like sands
of an hour glass.

narrative poem written on 02-27-2014 by: on mattkane.com
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