Consider this:

to your past, your present,  
or your future self –  
each one perceives their own
reality as their present moment.

you have gained more wisdom
beyond your past self; you will
always feel just a day away from
encountering your future self –  

so cherish the essence of
your present self, for to it,
this moment is their present
moment.

While walking through a warm afternoon
that suddenly turned from bright to dim,
with blazing clouds that began to loom
and shadows grew deeper and light was thin:

My way ahead was unexpectedly barred
by an iron gate, its lock snapped shut.
It’s topped by spikes well made to ward
off hurdlers, sharpened, made to deeply cut.

Past the gatehouse, a tunnel, a fallen shelter
from the rapidly coming hard rainfall
that once was sung about by a jester
in time with a tambourine, as I recall.

It leads to a light that’s still ablaze
where sunbeams’ sheen still sparkles bright,
beckoning us all to pass this gate
that looks at first glance a menacing might.

To stay before this wrought iron fence,
its spikes tipped with red poison that drips
into the soil that’s in cracked distress?
I won’t just wait here in the dawning eclipse.

No lock is unpickable, no wall too high
for those with the will to reach new skies.

What do you want for yourself, future wise?
I want a future in literature,
A doctorate in English arts,
And a lineup of books for people to read.
No, what do you really want?
Okay, I want a loving wife,
A happy home somewhere warm,
And a pair of kids, daughter and son.

Drowning in
Dread
From toes to
Head
Falling a
Part
From end to
Start
Weeping clear
Tears
Indulged in
Fears
Loss of my
Rights
Losing the
Fights
Illegal mar
Iages
High priced tar
Iffs
Corrupt and
Gone
Mauled and
Drawn
Hicking up
Sobs
Filling cupped
Jaws
Screaming in
Pain
Shouting in
Vain
Drowning in
Dread
From toes to
Head

it gets better with time.
it gets easier to interrupt the chain reaction,
to stop following down the rabbit hole
of every first subconscious reaction
that triggers a well-tried response.
and if you don't give up on trying
the hope might just carry you through
and across the finish line.
what you have been suffering from
doesn't define you,
but it does get better with time.

the day the bombs fell
my house was disintegrated
every plank of pseudo wood
every glimmer of glass
every picture frame that held us in place
everything; except for the fake flowers on the dining table

amidst the shadowed quiet world they stood
even though they don't need sunlight
they beckon the sun to come closer
but no matter how close it comes
the flowers will feel no warmth

they wont ever feel the wonder of photosynthesis coursing through their stems
and into their still golden petals
its not as if they felt anything ever
im not particularly sure about real flowers' feelings either

dont ask me how they made it through the impact because i dont have an answer
maybe the pakistani laborers decided to put in a little more effort for their pennies one day
because the single impurity was a petal with ghostly spots on it
something you would see on an old love letter your grandma wrote

and that petal was the first to fall
no one was there to see it fall
and the world was so topsy turvy that it could've fallen upwards towards the ashy clouds
or it could have defined its own set of physics
a philosophical query in its own right
it could have also just floated there
in the absence of anything
alone

sometimes it's a wonderful thought, being alone
i envy that petal
it could get away from the rest quickly, painfully, easily
maybe it was quick, painless, and easy because there was nothing left in the world to make it hard
i mean its not like there are any biomolecular bonds to keep the petal from falling
there aren't any living organisms feeding on its non existent nectar
and it didn't need any of those things in the first place
they're fake
simple and fake

i don't know why we kept them around
i guess it made everything feel better amidst the chaos of our home
mama yelling at my sister when she doesn't do her homework
daddy yelling at mama when she yells at my sister
and me sitting in my room
also alone but also very much surrounded by the things that i desperately want to get away from

that's why i envy the plastic flower
even in a world where the sun doesn't shine
where the birds don't sing
where the rain doesn't fall
it doesn't need any of the things i need
unfortunately i need oxygen and sunlight and love

it got love just for looking pretty
impossible for someone like me
maybe i am pretty to someone else
but it certainly never got me anywhere
never paid for my dinners
never got me a kiss in the rain
never got me flowers from passersby

but these flowers could just sit there on the table
not even living
and soak up all the love that is now lost to the ashes

its petals fell slowly over centuries
the table, half disintegrated, rotted from beneath the nonsensical flower ***
the remnants of the walls collapsed in on themselves
narrowly missing the flowers
resistant bugs ran to the flower for mercy
but died in its shadow realizing that their cries for sweet nectar were futile and their journey to Mecca was a hoax

over time my home became much like modern day Chernobyl
full of life and light and fresh air
pockets of radioactivity kept the living beings in check
and the fake petals of the fake flowers scattered across this newfound land
the last remnants of human life on Earth
it's almost silly to think about

we got up that day and didn't expect anything new to happen
the same old grind, same old food, same old people, same old rhymes
but the day ended with a skin breaking flash
and the sound of everything dying reached us before our deaths

it was rather slow actually.

The years and tasks have taken their toll
Now gray in my beard and shine on my skull
But the nicotine hits, and helps pass the time
Still feel something missing, like I'm out of a rhyme

The friends and music that once filled the air
Now silent, replaced by the burdens we bear
But I've come to accept what the years have unfurled
The past may be gone, but I've got my own world

For in their small hands, I see a love so true
Their future is bright and it makes mine too