Sometimes I flash back
and I think about the same things
in the morning hours, in my dreams,
a taste of the past becomes an alarm
Sometimes I flash back
and the nostalgia of old things grips my soul,
daydreaming, during lunch
a sweet dessert turns old
Sometimes I flash back
and wish it to all go away
when I find a reference in the evening
it makes me feel like I am screening
During the day the past becomes present
while my present becomes an unlived past
And the future, indiferent as always,
when I flash back, sometimes...
(C) RHM 2004
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