Time

I cling to the past
because it is known,
the only time lived,
actually shown.

A present today
is the current state,
live in the moment,
forgetting blind fate.

A written future,
not currently seen,
created details,
live in the machine.

Look back at old days,
a whimsical time,
oblivious to pain,
shielded from all crimes.

A pen in my hand,
the paper still blank,
a time left behind,
with lessons to thank.

Tomorrow is vague,
not written in stone.
with each rising sun,
knowing the unknown.

– Grace Y. Estevez-Reddy