He was a cousin of mine
Who I saw only at Christmas
And sometimes at Easter, but then
I started to see him appear in text books,
In pictures of wars and protests
That shaped the world we know today.
I asked him one day
If that was him who I saw
Behind the President
Smiling in black and white
Like he’s looking directly at me.
I love stories about time travel. There is something so interesting about having that ability to move across time. There are so many things that you can do with a story where those barriers of time have been broken down.
To begin with there is the ability to change the big things in life; the disasters that have changed the world. Wouldn’t it be amazing to know that you could step in and stop something that hurt so many people?
And then, perhaps more fun, would be just changing the small things that are personal to you. Just being able to rewind a couple of minutes when you’ve said something stupid and you wish you could take it back would be a wonderful thing.
But then again, I guess those silly mistakes we have made are the things that have shaped us and got us to the exact point in time we are in now. So would I really want to change that?
I still do believe that there are time travelers out there; who appear in old photos or rescue certain people when the odds are stacked against them. I just wonder if I have ever met one?