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What is ?
So strange: LIFE.
For it is not
what it seems.
A gift or a curse?
Or something in the realm of your dreams?
Maybe,
It’s not real at all…
Maybe,
It’s someone else’s thoughts,
Someone else’s emotions
Playing through your soul
Like a disk
On instant replay.
Because all it is really,
Are the same letters, the same words,
On replay.
Only, the disk gets scratched every time, so it is always
Somehow different.
And by the time the disk
Can no longer
Be played……
Is that the end?
Or maybe,
It’s the beginning.
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