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the future is a crooked line,
tangled up like fraying twine,
surrounded by a wire fence,
while we simply take a guess.
the future is a solid rope
to which I cling, and in I hope.
the future is what moves my present
and gets me through (however unpleasant)
the future is better left unknown
in case it is a palindrome,
a carbon copy of days past,
days I hoped would never last.
the future is my biggest fear
and yet I swing from year to year,
surrounded by my wire fence,
calling
racecar racecar.
- ch
YOU ARE READING
carpe diem
Poetrybrought to you from the far corners, shallow pools, and desperate depths of my mind complete
