I often think about the past.
Had it been too slow or too fast?
Then I ponder on what might have been.
What I might have done and might have seen.

I think about all the times I've wasted,
And how I took for granted the things I tasted.
Where am I going? What am I doing?
What became of the life I had once been viewing?

Now all I see is a fog so dense
That in this life I can find no sen...

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