I cannot say I am a poet, yet I love poetry. I have never been a photographer, yet I love photography.
I have but one identity, one which I am not worthy of, yet I endlessly struggle to live up to, hoping, not in vain, that one day I will be worthy.
I do not behove to be who you would like me to be – I am a product of my being, moulded by thoughts and actions that were not mine, taking inspiration from that which has passed –
A cacophony, a whirlwind, I am told moments pass – The brush of a feather against that withering, ill-fated tree. It groans under the burdens that are shared by people past, swept by by a wind that knows no more than how to be –
Yes, moments pass by like the wind and today
I invite you to read for a moment that will soon pass you by.
Thank you all for the likes, comments and follows. I truly appreciate it.