The relativity of time’s
proof
Becomes redundant as one has further to look back.
The past compresses and the future
Rushes to join it.
What you thought it would be,
The time you thought you would have
Is so gone,
As distant as mud cakes and tricycles,
As old inventions and moral conventions.
The frightening future
Bites at your nose.
The consolation is you’ve seen many things
And you know without doubt,
This, too, shall pass.
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