Once again he wasn’t prepared. He let time pass by and never sustained. Let alone the ambition he had. It’s all gone with an obsession in hand. To bring back what wasn’t once there, to try it at least once before he will let it all go away.
Tick tock, tick tock, he listens to the time pass.
He watches the different races being run. He wonders which race to him he belongs. He does the thing at hand and asks, “how come I am doing that?” He knows the answer at heart and so he never complained out loud. With every interruption, he allows it to happen. For him, resistance was from within. He knows he could finish it, polish it and have the beautiful piece at the end.
But, why he says tomorrow will be the perfect time when today he had the time?
Image Credits to: graur razvan ionut