Deceptive yesterdays (Poem)

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Deceptive yesterdays (Poem)

If you run..
only to keep looking over your shoulder
you’re more likely to trip.
Our present footing is so interloped with our past steps
that we forget where we are standing.

Though todays realities contain what were only the hopes of yesterdays.
It seems the pain injects in ways rapidly into veins of a lying nostalgia.
Nostalgic of times, though in those times too we were nostalgic.
Dreamers of yesterday who reminisce of days that were not much different to this

Whisperings of how great things were,
how conversations went, how you think you felt,
how ‘they’ have changed though you stayed the same,
how the summer sun used to shine,
of times gone, and we hate to let go..

Our lego towers of progress that we keep knocking down
Trying to cherish the first blocks, put them in our mouths,
just to taste, just to try to imitate an inconceivable memory…
what it would be like to be kids again, or teens again
or anything but a ‘has-been’ again,
anything that isn’t present tense, when we felt less tense.

Times when we had so many memorable moments,
and a few pictures to show
Now an array of pictures showing hopes
to snap a few memorable moments.

But the summer sun still shines the same as it did,
somewhere beyond the clouds of time coveting over our vision.

For the same vacancy existed then,
when we dreamed of how things would be,
where we held our hopes to grow up,
the frustrations of the present have always been,
now accrued as we rue our acts
as tragedies that blocked the fantasies

We are rabbits chasing carrots on sticks placed just out of our reach,
We are the centre forward at his peak, scoring two but kicking himself for weeks over that missed opportunity for the hattrick,
We are damaged, the way we yearn through history as though we once lived in utopia,
Drinkers of a sea of saltwater, wondering why our thirst is not quenched,
drenched in our hopes, poisoning ourselves with our discontent.

Our frames of mind carry false frames of reference,
Nostalgia is but a great pretender that begets delay…
The present moment, the ‘now’ you snubbed while searching fondly for yesterday,
may just be that moment you look back on in awe tomorrow.


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