Still Time

You will always get depressed,
If you have any inkling,
That what there is isn't what there has to be,
Necessarily,

And that your actions in the past,
Somehow led to where you are today,
Even though things cannot be any different,
Because they're just that way,

And as more time passes you start to think,
That the possible routes are far less,
In addition to the always-present one,
Of instant death.

And it's alright,
They're still infinite,
Maybe just the most likely ones,
Are becoming more and more morbid.