The Days

The Days Time passes, and I am trying to hold on… to thin air. It is illusive, invisible, and yet tangible, in ways I can hardly explain. Moments that I can not have back, taken without permission. While others, were given away, and wasted, on those that did not notice, the clock on the wall, at all. We can not begin again, so we will need to start… from here anew. This place on the page, this line with ink, that will change the coarse, of everything forward. It is a choice, to live a life of meaning. It is a decision, to be all that can be, from what is, and not let the outside, win against the in.