my life is not continious but discrete,
it's made of myriad of days
which are apart
and yet together;
That's what makes me up,
makes me a person;
It's not about my past
and not about future:
these days had not begun
and they won't end.
They just exist
like frames on tape
that you can not amend
without breaking. But I will not break;
I, at the worst, will crumble
and if you pick me up and smooth, I'll be the same,
remaining on the snapshots
permanently made.
***
© Copyright: Донни Маклеод, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115020812580
Свидетельство о публикации №115020812580
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