I’ve been told, when you are old, you always see the past you left behind your back.
You wish you have the faintest slight of hope, that you put something in your sack
A moment of might, a moment of glory, a moment when you can turn your children your story,
The story is your life, a full life, a life where you fought to be free,
But again, is it worth it? Do you pay all your life for just a story? A story that, in best scenarios, will be forgotten after a hundred years, maybe much less.
Whoever who might come here and read these words, do you prefer to live the moment? Or just worry for your past, for your future, for your legacy?