The past keeps slowly slipping by,
Out of reach, hiding beyond every yesterday,
No escape from its perpetual journey.
Tomorrow it will even pass me by today.
Maybe if we can be skillful enough,
We can quietly stalk our prey.
We set up the perfect textbook ambush,
Only to find the past has already run away.
Can I grip that slippery beast tightly?
Can I bear the cost I know I will have to pay?
I don’t want to forget the lessons I’ve learned,
But I still must get past yesterday.
How do you balance the future and past
On outmoded themes that only get in your way?
How do you write the next line,
When what’s to be said, already had it’s say?
The past keeps slowly slipping by,
Out of reach, hiding beyond every yesterday,
No escape from its perpetual journey.
Tomorrow it will even pass me by today.