INCREMENTS

Sometimes I think of good old days
but were they really all that good?
Or are they brightened by time's glaze
as I squint beneath memories' hood?

But that past can not be cured
nor brought back to anyone
just recollections old and blurred.
Like leaves they all turn slowly dun.

Let me share a secret my friend
the future has an ending point
and we all come to that end
like the snap of a breaking joint.

So let the past go where it will,
let future's worries dissipate.
Though we cannot make time stand still
its Nows which add up to our fate.