...

The night is old, the day wasted,
from these hours, no success tasted.
Brimming with potential, moments fly by
all of it fruitless, as I stare at night's sky.
The moon has waxed and waned again
and where I was, I still remain.
I reflect now on great feats never done,
Inner battles not won, projects not begun.
The sands of time slip through my fingers
less and less each moment lingers
I'd wish for it all back, a second take,
though knowing me, the same mistakes I'd make.
Yet knowing what I do, hope doesn't falter
That I can, and will, end days better
Perhaps tomorrow I will do more
Than leave a footprint in the snow