Doomed to repeat the past am I, this retched soul.
Like a hangover from yesterday, sometimes it seems easier to just give up and die.
While at work, time and life walked softly by.
No more tomorrows, just the yesterday’s which died.
She was just six, and somehow she is now twenty-one.
Where did it go, this bitch so causally called time?
Why are they all gone, and why did everyone when I was not looking die?
All life is precious, yet I have given mine to work.
I vowed nevermore, yet time and relevance has gone berserk.
Destined to wake up one morning and realize life around me is now passed away and died.
Doomed to repeat the past seems this pitiful soul called I.
Death may be welcome,
But not if one lives only to carry the burden of the past.
Therefore learn from a fool as he walks this precarious Way.
Grasp the moment…seek not tomorrow and seek the day.
J. Allen Wilson © 3-7-2012