As I take a stroll every evening
There in those woods so green
I watch come to me from afar
A yellow tram with a red scar

The tram comes from a future
I conceived in the past
A world with a ****** culture
I once designed to last

Now as I board the tram
I journey to my end
For my future is a sham
My death’s a trend

But the tram changed course
And travels back in time
For my past’s the true source
Of each and every crime

The tram moves fast
And the woods go brown
As I reached my past
I got down with a frown

It took me some time
I righted my past
I cremated my crime
Returned at last

As I strolled the after evening
Within my mind ever so green
I perceived a thought afar
Yellow, but without a scar.