Wednesday, January 16, 2013


When is the best time to be someone you're not --
Living just to breathe and exhale,
Trudging on day by day
Being minimal in every which way?

What season is it are we permitted to hide --
Shy away, numb ourselves,
or malinger through any and all hardships
and be not life, but life-like?

Time does not tick away
Like checkmarks on a list,
but ticks to uncover a  rhythm,
a pattern, a path, a power. 

The seconds of summer are gold
The hours of winter are jewels
And so we are rich till the last breath
and Death? They say it stops for no one
but I am one who'll not live on any less.

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