Seeing the torn pages of one's life.
Sprawled across some filthy floor.
Scattered, torn, misplaced, misspelled, misinterpreted, just like before. Ugly words for ugly times. Memories of my filthy foot steps, only to remind me that I am trashing my own thoughts and words. Thinking for just a moment it has all changed. Until that blast of reality when I realize's there is never enough tape on the roll to mend all the tares of life's lessons. Also, never enough towels to clean up our dirty footsteps from a once beautiful floor. Like the old floor my thoughts may be re varnished, but never will they be the same as they where before.
©gbuda
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