It seems as I get older, I spend more time in the past.
Reliving decisions that I made, Even after the die had been cast.
Taking a trip out to the graveyard, Walking from stone to stone.
Reading the names inscribed there, The names of people I've known.
I know that my time gets shorter, And shorter with each passing day.
One day, a silent gray gravestone, Will mark the place where I lay.
I can only hope…