Living in the possibilities we dream
Living in the Possibilities We Dream To watch paint dry is like watching the poetry of time, watching white paint yellow and crack as the weather passes by. A poetry unnoticed, yet acknowledged each time we wake in bed. It's like looking at the stars, each night we value what's long past dead. Even looking at the barren shore, watch the waves come and go. If we didn't have the memories, would we ever even know what's been taken from us or what's been lost? Did we even make the most of the light? Did we wither in the dark, yellow and crack like the white? Each time we live in ageless time, in the many possibilities we dream. You didn't notice your hands grow or change. It's been the same to you, it seems. It seems we notice our own age from the things around we see. To be prepared, yet unprepared all the same. When the respect you fought to earn comes naturally to the age besides your name. When birthdays are less of possibilities and more regrets. Do...
