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As we obsess about making memories
We forget about living the moment
We see significantly important instants of our livesThrough lenses of smart phones and photo cams
We watch life passing by
We want to eternalize fragments of our mortal livesWe want to show them off, as a proof of their existence
As a proof of our existence As we obsess about making memoriesOur present becomes past
Moment after moment, years pass by
As we reflect back and remember
There is a sadness that grows insideA sadness, not caused by a nostalgia to time that flew byBut to a time spent un-lived
