June 23, 2012
By Anonymous

We are each but a library of memories,
Full of books both old and new,
Forgotten and well-read,
Dusty and well-worn,
Bound in tears and sweat and blood,
Saturated with victory and loss,
And love and regret.
And foolishness and wisdom,
But most importantly with action.
For we are each but a library of cataloged decisions,
Decisions that either change the world,
And touch other libraries,
Or decisions that are left veiled
Behind unopened doors,
Gathering dust on their shelves,
Once, and for the rest of time, unremembered.

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