A poem about the future, written in the past, and relevant again in the present

The pubs are long closed
The coffee’s been drunk
And our friends have all gone home.
In the quiet of my room
After an evening’s false jollity
I take off the Brave Face with cleansing cream
And am once again alone.

Maybe if I ignore it
Ostrich-fashion
The future
Will simply
Go away.

Written when the end of my student days was in sight and I was I was wondering what choices to make and which path to follow.

And here I am again.