Time, they say, waits for no man.
I think of it like a runaway train,
and we are all running alongside,
trying to catch up
throwing our bags into moving doorways,
ready to jump in, when the moment strikes.

But it never does.
Time moves too fast.
The doors are open but we never reach them.

Time is like a runaway train.

But hindsight is something different.
That's when you look back at one of those trains you never managed to catch,
and realize you never looked back for another door.
And if you had, you could've slowed down a little and waited for it to come to you.

Hindsight's a jerk.

But you know what's the worst of all?
Watching the train shuttle by in the distance, assuming you would have never made it.
Cos you'll never really know,
and eventually, it'll eat away at you.
And you'll wonder what you were doing
when that train was disappearing into the sunset without you.

And where the people who chased it ended up.

And those who waited for the follow-up door and jumped aboard... Where are they now?

And where are you?