The worst thing that could happen is what you least expect
to happen to what you most take for granted.
The number of my years reminds me of who I am and what I could have had
but never was and never what I wanted.
Somewhere out there are the pieces of me
washed away by the tide.
And in some small way or faint memory
I am a part of many other lives.
Every one but mine.
Friday, September 08, 2006
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