Ill-advised is the man
Who dwells in his past,
His progress hindered by the yesteryears.
At the unopened door of choices he stands,
His stance wavering, his eyes downcast,
Wishing back the lost glory he holds dear.
Delusional is the man
Who looks too far ahead,
Dreaming of a future yet to come.
He walks forward with an outstretched hand:
Eyes closed to the trail on which he treads.
A simple diversion will leave him stunned.
Yet, in the continuum of linear time
Whilst lost in the sea of regrets and dreams,
To open one’s mind to the ticking of today
And discover the present in that fine line
Takes exceptional effort, it seems.
But that is where the keys to life lay.