Poem: Prisoners Of Time

What if the question looms

above the head a halogen balloon

What would have changed,

If I had felt then not that strange.

Who could have solved 

when it was not easily resolved.

Questions that cloud us

about the past within us.

Haven’t met a guy or a gal

who is not demented by these pasts so tall.

Do we live in the present,

or a present which always peeps into the past.

We live in the past, everywhere, everytime, all at once.

We are the prisoners of time.