The good times

Why do I wait for the good times to roll in?
They are here: every day, every living minute
And every surviving second.
My breath is the time bomb ticking away
Till death explodes my present being to smithereens -
I live with fears, apprehensions and prayers for the future;
I carry my past with me as it is an embedded software;
I lust after the worldly pleasures tactile and tangible;
I, I, I... yes, me, myself and mine.
Oblivious that this me is programmed to self destruct.
So, then, live while life lasts,
live as if today is the last day;
The good times are here and now.

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