Poetry: The Importance of Something Mundane?

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[i]I was browsing around this morning for my old account in GaiaOnline. I was looking for something else yet I saw another thing. This free style poetry that I've written years ago. Now that I've read it, I could hardly believe that it was me who created it. Had it not been for my username there, I really won't believe that it was me who made it. No one commented about my work though. A pity since I really want people to critique my work but anyways, I think that my old poetry expresses my thoughts quite okay regarding to how I lived my life. I wonder if it's the same with many of you, mylotters out there.[/i] Time flies by like a bullet. No, not an arrow, but like a bullet just fired from a gun. And only God knows where it'll end up to. I had a lot of time in my hands that I used to rid of everything that bothered me. Did I spend it wisely? Or did I waste it over nothing? I had a lot of time in my hands And I tried to heal something big for me. But is it big for those who are important in my life? Or did I waste it again? I had a lot of time in my hands. Right now, I fear that I got little left. And I remembered what I did with it. Now, I ask myself, "Did I use it to the fullest?" I rested, I played, I stayed home and rarely went out But was I ever home or in another part of the world As I read many stories that would distract me from the pain of reality. I always sit in front of my computer my only companion, distraction, and destruction. I always think what will happen next But I rarely focus on the present. Did I spend my time wisely? Yes, I have been with my family -- physically But was I there for them when they need me? Yes, I stayed but was I even really there? Now, I have little time. And with fear, I face my future. Back to the hated reality that I must overcome. The tomorrow of constant "unsure". My time is nearing it's end. The illusion I made for myself to cocoon me slowly fades away, to bring me out again into a world full of insecurities. The time for hiding is nearing its conclusion Did I grow my wings? And once out...will I know how to fly? To go back to the world filled with uncertainty Did I use my time well? Or did I forgot another important thing again? What is the important mundane thing, you ask? *laughs* It is your grasp of your present...your gift...your current time...your "now".