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Never before has time made itself so clearly known,
Made it so crystal clear that I was nothing but a slave to it's will.
Never have I feared what would happen at the next turn of the hand,
What would happen when the shadow and sun moved to the next dail,
What would happen when the final grain of sand fell.
But now do I fear
For the future is uncertainty itself,
Unwritten and unshaped.

Sometimes I wish things were simpler
Like the past
It has been written
It has been said
It has been done
Something that is recorded in the books of our lives
Stored on shelfs to collect dust if we please,
Or to be opened and read whenever we please.
I have learned,
The past is something that may haunt and hurt
Even after it is long gone
Even after everything has been said and done

Considering all of this
And thinking things through once or twice
I dwell now on possibilties
Things that could've been
Things that currently are
And Things that possibily could be

But Still

I find myself paitently waiting
All fear banished from my mind but dread still lingers there at the possibilty of the hurt and pain that may come
But still I find myself awaiting
What will happen next
In the pages
In the books
Of my Life