Who Has Time

Just aging, getting older, dying by the day. Sensitive. I've seen and taken too much of hate in life. How I survived, what I plan for the future. Nothing is certain. The constant struggle has proven to be worth while. When they go away, recede and the wind starts blowing, everything gets clean. It is a natural cycle. I think like knm wants me to. So I have nothing that I can say, I did, or I had. All memories are gone now. Just the now.