Maybe it's all really about choice.
Maybe that's why their faces are
blurred to you.
You made the choice to walk away.
I was forcefully pushed away.
I'm too dependent on time to kill
interest,
too attached to the past to look away.
You never look back.
I never stop.
I'm walking through this valley,
occasionally covered in shadow and fog,
and I stumble and trip
because my head is turned to look back.
What could I possibly find there,
except for the shadows I'm casting?
What ever is back there is already
lost,
and I'm losing what's up ahead.
I think I've been wrong all along.
I've been choosing to look back
when I should look away and look ahead,
from the people who walked away from
me,
and learn to focus on the future -
on the people who choose to stay.
-Zero
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