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Library

Every life is a story
Waiting to be written
Every page turned is a memory
We can look back at
And as we keep flipping through this book
More details appear before us
In this book, every sentence is a second
A record of a feeling long since gone
The sentences add up
Filling in the pages that are still blank
Marking the time we have existed
As the clock keeps ticking
We do not know what the next page holds
But we have
Our collection from before
And throughout this life
The only thing we can call our own 
Are those pages we keep in our mind
Our pages are limited, yet our stories are untold
We must make the most out of them 
Because someday, when our books are completed
And we are not there to read them
These aging bound pages
Will be all that is left of us



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