At once, my foe and friend
We hold hands until the end
And then the past, to which I cling so dear
Vanishes with all my sweet surrenders
Until I have nothing but the memory kept in my grasp
Why is it so hard to part with the past?
And if you are not my friend, then future be my only lover
My hope at long last
I reach toward progress, but soon it has passed
Me by and again I am in the past!
What frustration! What agony!
Must I instead take the road least traveled-
To live in the moment as the die is cast?
Can present be my future's past; transition, the route that lasts?
Is all of life's glory confined to seconds like now, now, now?
I must break this chain of pace and plow,
But how?

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