He talks to the past
More than he thinks of the future.
He'd recount on friends he lost
Rather than the friends he gained.
He sees the way the die is cast
Rather than the number that appears
And that in itself is his demon.

He reminisces of moments had
Than the memories that could be
He does what he could
Rather than what he should.
He keeps his eyes on the beauty of last
Until he strives for an impasse.

He has given up on the past
And chased the future.
He chases tomorrow's sunrise
With yesterday's sunset.
He chases cars
That he can't even see yet.
He doesn't live in the past
The way a die is cast.

He lives tomorrow
And
Everyday after that.