4 lost souls

A poem knocked on my door
let her in, made her sit,
with a glass of wine by her side
her eyes fixated at the table
around which sat 4 that looked like me
God was dealing them cards called time
And each coming up with a strategy of his own

The most timid of all was the present me
I pity him she said. He is not here, not anymore
I wonder where the thoughts are lost
The game? The cards? Do they even count?
Even if a wrong card was dealt,
would he be able to recognize it she asked?

The other one, remorseful, sulking, the past me
Stuck in the web of the past, lost soul she said
His own world of failures with occasional smiles
Cards he currently hold mean no value
His eyes show no sigh of life; searching for the lost cards

Mysterious among them was the one with bright laughter
A smile that seemed to not vanish
Is that even real she pointed? Who knows
He talks about big dreams.
Talks bout how he would change the world around him
Fill it with never ending smiles and joy
Thinks the cards wont stop flowing
That the dealer would throw in an Ace at some point

The most vibrant of all was, ego
He peeks into the albums the past is hiding
With a smirk says, we will tear a hole in the Universe
Create our own in no time
Lets win small then win big
Cease not, run, keep running
Dont take a pause nor capture the moment
I looked at her, she was just smiling at him!
Wondered why she kept quiet.

There I sat while she wrote about them
Looking at each of them, at their foolishness
Looking at the dealer i dont understand clearly
The deck of cards torn apart among them
They played until no one won, except the dealer.

Felt like stealing the deck from Him
Hide it safe among the poems, not to be found forever
Forever? Fool.
I let her laugh...