I'm always a pace behind
Can't seem to get going
Each step is one taken back
My nose is pressed on the present
A moth fluttering against a glass pane
Facing a flickering, tantalizing flame
The wind blows hard behind me
I feel it prod and urge me forward
Yet with all its gale-like impetus
Nary an inch did it move me on
Oh what a cruel destiny decreed
To be denied even just a step ahead
How sad not to know tomorrow
Only the past to be relived over
Like a seascape without horizons
Or a flourish of buds never to bloom
Refused the solace of improving one's lot
How tiresome to know that it will be
Yesterday again and yet again
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