The Book of Life

Photograph taken the 25th of March at the Franconia Scuplture Garden

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While I may not study art, I've studied my life

more thoroughly than any book

my eyes have glanced through along the way

With each page, my fingers have bleed

and at times I find myself reading something

I've already read

But it is indeed read differently

each time

With time comes effort, hands already blue

Suffocated from the glory

of the work they've done

With work comes wear,

the inevitable tear

to try and build a new tomorrow

But regardless of the things I've done

Or the things I can no longer remember

I am brought back to each page

to each line

to each tear

until it is engraved in my mind

like permanent ink

Like the novels we browse, our lives await

playing out the unwritten

the disastrous

the inevitable

but in disaster

beauty is found