week twelve

12:00 am already...
where has my day gone?
gone with the long-forgotten breaths
of all the other yesterdays~
each drenched with their own feelings,
dreams,
happenings,
each sorted into piles
somehow wishing to bring meaning
to this life of mine.
but each new second slips by
like the rising and falling tide
wishing to be fixed in time.
just as the beach will always
show evidence of this tide,
so each day, each memory will
always be evidence
of the ticking second hand...
and the days of my life.