When It's Gone, It's Gone (Poetry)

What lay in the future
is now in the past.
The day started bright
but the light didn’t last.
Whole minutes uncounted
so hours were lost.
Those chances not taken
add years to the cost.

We squandered our summers
in indolent bliss
and never imagined
a winter like this.
An ice-age upon us —
it’s too cold to think
or measure existence.
We’re gone in a blink.