Retrospection.

The river refers to my hopes,

my dreams, my subtle changes
to reality.

We all do that, don't we?

Contemplate on what the future brings,

constantly watch our acrid past

resurface and poison the present?

And wish for the unattainable-

is that-

why we prefer to escape to fiction,

to hide from the unpleasant reality?

Isn't it difficult to mould the present-

without consulting the past,

without grasping the future?

Isn't it difficult to let go of the alternatives?

Isn't that the river-

in which we drown?