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Tuesday, May 24, 2011

#144 A Fleeting Thought

What is anything
If not memories

Memories of what has been thought
People, places, events
Wars that have been fought

Memories in steel, stone, and concrete
Of designs, and designers
Some long since
Turned to dust

As our old world crumbles
Our memories fade as well

Paper turns back to pulp
Papyrus rots
Even the stone tablets
Wear away

The memories
Of who we are
What we've done
And how to do things
Are so fleeting
So easily lost

Sometimes easily changed
Like some grand game
Of telephone

Tomorrow
I'm not the same person I was today
But I remember
For a time

Then that will be gone
Replaced by newer memories
Until I myself am gone
And only a memory

And eventually
That will fade too

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