gotten nothing for (it's just a cycle)

there is magic in the now
there is passion and grief behind every passing minute

we forget what is left behind
we regret what is forgotten

and no matter what new meaning we create
of what was forgotten and erased

we can never escape the reality of the past
we can never forego that thread of reality.

as we hurriedly walk to tomorrow
it is rushing to be part of the past

and we ask, what are we hurrying for?
what are we running after?

is it the nearness of tomorrow
to our forgotten past?

or is it the newness of tomorrow
as it so seems...

we live to forget
and yet we forget to live

this sense of being
can it ever come to reality?