It would be easier if… As we get older, Change or grow, There was a sign, easily visible That would mark us as the latest Version of ourselves.
It’s been done… you know. Computers run by instructions, That grow in complexity and order, And by their labels, we know that this is the latest… Version. Free of all the previous one’s flaws, But occasionally picking up new ones. So we slow down, to learn it again… Give it a chance. A clean slate.
So what is called for is an Update, A declaration of oneself as new, Washed clean of past sins, Watched but accepted Until and unless, This version too… is flawed.
The beauty is in the journey as the slightly better Iterations… grow Until we’d reach the best and last. Version.
It’s Loud Inside My Head… The Poetry and Prose of A Man Who Feels Too Much. 
Leave a comment