An Older Insomnia Poem

In time,
an autumn leaf will crumble to the earth
reating a new tomorrow …………which may take centuries,
and all that surrounds us
will change into different versions of life.

In time,
the landscapes will change  (and so will you)
Like an old piece of driftwood floating across the sea
…..we all have a story

 but like the driftwood, its story lays faded and washed upon the shore say,
somewhere on the beach of Montauk Point

In time,
You will look back at the way we were…
We will reminisce and laugh because age has taught us the meaning of nonsense and the things we thought were important,
will be meaningless.

A day will come,
When you and I will be memory—like the driftwood
We’ll be a story, or if I can pull off my trick…
We’ll be an entry in a novel and someone will read about us

I think the hardest part of change is letting go.
Who would I be if I wasn’t angry?
Or on the edge?

Who would I be if I were scaled down to the core
after the mask crumbled

and I had nothing left to hide behind?
Who would I be if I didn’t have the answers,
or at least pretend to?

What’s funny is I never knew there was bravery in the term “Surrender.”
I never knew about the victory in walking away
Or the justice in standing alone for the right reasons,
instead of living in crowds for the wrong ones.

But I’ve learned over the years
and in time
……….so will you

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