Have you ever reflected on years gone by
and titled each year as if chapters in a book
a witty little phrase
packed with the punch
of an inside joke
On The Move
Sh*t, I'm Sorry
And what would I title this year?
The Great Escape
Drawing Lines In The Sand?
But you can really only give it a name after you've lived it.
To label something
is like drawing with an eraser
the image never comes
just a bunch of torn paper.
Or like getting your hands on a P-Touch
and gripping it with the pressure
of your legacy, and finally
after much deliberation
your label spits out
words failing to describe
the pleasure of pushing that lever down
to separate your words
from other words
As you realize two things:
1. There's nowhere to stick this label right now,
even if I did want to peel the backing off, and
2. There will never be a suitable resting place
these are dreams...