Worry

In this day, there was truth Thinking of wasteful years drowning in blinded tears Wasting away Atrophy takes to life; infiltrating the perceptional view Left to vices the world has taught all that makes you Continuance of all the same faults In tomorrow, there is no life And yesterday has expired We all live in increments of twenty-four hours This is where all desire should rest Not on future or past Sure is death when life is relying on the next breath Not holding the moment's gifts Unseen; dream the dream What is left when worrisome, death awaits new breath Nothing seemingly to have one sad Ragingly mad, unknowing what the next day will offer