Days are ephemeral

I still, still hope this is all just a silly nightmare
That I’ll wake up being 8 again
That I’ll be able to save myself, to never… ever…
But days now are ephemeral, yes.
Years are yet to pass, and after that, I won’t know
I won’t know what to do anymore.

I’m still hoping…
That this is just a nightmare
That my body never got dirty
That the strange voices never visited me
That I’ll be safe and not scared!

But days are ephemeral
and we don’t have many left
You and I. Me, myself.
I am ephemeral

For I’m yet to come… and yet to end.

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It’s waking nightmare but all too real.

You can’t change or erase the past and we all want to be safe and not scared.

True, true. I’m 63, it seems like yesterday I was in my fifties. I still think of my job unloading trucks in my thirties as recent history, Time goes by fast, one day you’re in your 40’s and you’re a park ranger and then all of a sudden it’s hard to stand up and get around in your 60’s. The trick is taking action, not sitting around just thinking of all the things you want to do but actually doing them.

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