Sometimes I write things where even I really have no idea what they are about. This is one of those times. I like the poem but I'm damned if I can tell you what it's about though it seems to be about something.
The doodle that it's based on shows ants scurrying in and out of holes.
The doodle that it's based on shows ants scurrying in and out of holes.
It all gets forgotten,
Everything said
By most of the living
And all of the dead.
When the memory's gone
It leaves behind holes
Which we desperately try
To plug with our souls,
Stretching them thinner
To cover the gap
And thinner and thinner
Till they finally snap.
We fall through the holes
And we vanish from view
And all that we are
Is forgotten then too.
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