Not So Different
I remember from what you have said.
It lingers through my mind
takeing every step slowly.
Before I step down with all my body pressure
among this soft ground.
Each and everyone of my steps
leaves a mark here.
Should it be feared?
I am afraid not.
If I walked on a beach;
Would my mark be there tomorrow?
I'm washed away like some sort of dollar.
In the sand burried amoung the rest of these bones and treasures.
My body pressured with these life stresses
trying to crawl out from being burried alive.
Yet, I remember...
Do these riches make you happy young man?
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