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Literature Text
I could have done differently,
I could have said better.
I stumble and fall
And say all the wrong words.
I am such a fool,
And such an idiot too.
I know they know;
What am I to do?
Can I get a restart?
Begin it all again?
Start over from the beginning?
And do over my faux pas?
Can I forget about me?
Can they forget me too?
My life would be better new,
And theirs without me too.
But that’s not how it works.
I know, I know this is true:
There is neither restart, nor redo.
There is no clean slate,
But new transparent layers
Stacked over our history
Through which we can glimpse
Our shadows settling past.
Abandoned sketches in our book,
Forgotten stories, shrugged feelings.
New pages layer, but our scars remain.
Behind the new, opacity shows through.
All said, all done, all part of who we are,
Attached forever to our identity
For everyone to see beyond our end,
Our restart becomes re:start.
Each day, our gift, a new beginning.
Our past is not gone, just past.
Scars do not define us,
Neither what we do or what we say,
But flavor and texture our hearts.
With what, is your choice to make.
But our only duty is to be
Better than we were yesterday.
I could have said better.
I stumble and fall
And say all the wrong words.
I am such a fool,
And such an idiot too.
I know they know;
What am I to do?
Can I get a restart?
Begin it all again?
Start over from the beginning?
And do over my faux pas?
Can I forget about me?
Can they forget me too?
My life would be better new,
And theirs without me too.
But that’s not how it works.
I know, I know this is true:
There is neither restart, nor redo.
There is no clean slate,
But new transparent layers
Stacked over our history
Through which we can glimpse
Our shadows settling past.
Abandoned sketches in our book,
Forgotten stories, shrugged feelings.
New pages layer, but our scars remain.
Behind the new, opacity shows through.
All said, all done, all part of who we are,
Attached forever to our identity
For everyone to see beyond our end,
Our restart becomes re:start.
Each day, our gift, a new beginning.
Our past is not gone, just past.
Scars do not define us,
Neither what we do or what we say,
But flavor and texture our hearts.
With what, is your choice to make.
But our only duty is to be
Better than we were yesterday.
"Well I catch my reflection like its some kind of disease
Wish I quarantined my thoughts before they made it past my teeth
I walk outside and it feels just like the weight of everybody’s eyes
Is wrapped around my heart so tight that it might cease to beat."
Somehow the devil's guilty conscience found its way inside of me
'Cause I let everything I see convince me that I need
To be loved and liked and listened to by everyone but me."
From the song "Someone Else by The Jellyrox
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My submission to the One Word: All Mediums contest here
I wasn't going to enter, but thought the concept was so interesting, and since it could be done in any medium including literature, why the heck not!
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Zazzle Store: VectorMathic
© 2018 - 2024 mrcrozier
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