A single figure, a lonely man

A single figure, a lonely man,
Starts to walk along the road;
This trip alone only began,
None of this was in his plan,
Plans, wishes, dreams erode.

Mistakes in life, like all the rest,
Have been his pattern and history;
He did, he tried, to be his best,
In the life picked to invest,
Slips away to naught but misery.

We all are nothing but what we choose,
The lives we live day by day;
Change and time are not a ruse,
Yet strange, unyielding, and confuse,
What was and is does pass away.

He was, he is, he could, he can.
Someplace, sometime yet to come,
A single figure, a lonely man,
Eroded where his hopes and plan.
The man he has a soul now numb.