The past is something,
you lost,
and becoming last of the last,
and future is a weather forcast,
the paradise is distant,
dream, walking empty hands,
a sketch made on the sands,
When we see by closing eyes,
Our vision dies,
Placing universe on temporal measure,
one page of life we tear,
better to do,
what you want,
and leave what you dont want,
Rafique Farooqi
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/unreal-and-real/
