I am waiting for something impossible to foresee.
Here and now is something possible to feel, no to see.
Previous days are puzzles from our remembrances.
Past, present and future, they're three linked faces.
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and we are unable to solve this crime, - what crime are you talking about?
Hi, George! Good evening! The crime I speak about in this poem is the fact that, we can't explain what time really is although it really affect our lives, daily.