THE TIME OF MAN.

Wandering, aimless, blameless but blind
Searching for something you’ll never find
A wanderer, a squanderer of time...
A nomad, placeless, faceless,
Just like the rest. Eyes firmly set
On what you can get from today.
Ignoring the voices in your head
Carping, “What about tomorrow?”
Harping, “Consider the past.”
Is it the end? Has the dice been cast?
Seeing the world t...