Why own things?

Why collect?

When you are gone they are left

to be torn apart by hungry hands

that in turn will cease

and these things will be left again

to be torn apart by hungry hands.

Books decay

their pages mold

the ideas fade

new books are printed

and sit along shelves

too heavy to take to your new city

too heavy to be carried to the grave.

Let go

sit in the garden

spend idle hours in the sun.

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Check out my debut novel The Bomber by clicking the link just to your right.