To live in the past
To live in the past has a sly subtle ring
To live in the future a treacherous thing
But to live for these moments and not in-between,
Where happiness dwells and the past is a dream.
Temporary, slipping by quiet as a ghost
Returning all the moments which we had missed the most
Loosen its throttle, and unclench its bite
Erasing the memory of festering strife
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