I pushed my past behind
Only to see it
Come back again
Brisk pace might help
I told myself
But it caught up
Equally fast
At every turn
I tricked it
Only to see it
Ricochet back again
Stairs I climbed
But of no use As they were
The Penrose Paradox
I have known now
What present means
Nothing more
But mirage of the past
Your steps may move
But not really you
As the way ahead
Is but an image
See a hundred paths
A long road ahead
Promising you
A thousand joys
Look close
Close enough
And you'll find it
All a bit strange
Trapped you are
In a room of mirrors
Reality is but an illusion
Illusion is your reality
