I languished in the past so long
that my present became my past
and stole my opportunities to look back
and see the growth I lacked.
Time gathered on my shoulders,
a noose disguised in its appearance
leading me in a loop that was reverse,
urging my escape in the white-light hearse.
Now, I cling to my personal NOW,
to a life not open for debate
while the past seeks others to heed its fate,
stealing time from those for whom it’s growing late.
© August 2014, Christina Anne Hawthorne