Split Second Chameleon
So strange that in split seconds
the future can change hue,
rosy and bright fast becomes blue
greyed out of ashen hopes;
so very strange that what was full of hope
suddenly becomes a sieve holding
only worthless rocks and dried dust,
and of course none of it ever was,
or is, the future;
only an imagination of what it holds
as now pretends to move forward,
but resolutely stays here,
and sends me running from dreams,
of my tomorrow.
poem by David Taylor
Added by Poetry Lover
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