Unrepeatable
No one has lived the life I have, or will.
You can’t be me, and I cannot be you,
My life is mine, every moment a thrill.
And yours is yours, no matter what I do.
Even old things can still be new for me;
History repeats, things become anew,
Like cutoff branches growing from a tree,
Life is never ending; regrow, redo.
We aren’t meant to envy, put on a mask,
We’re meant to explore and find who we are,
You have your own destiny, your own tasks.
So be proud of what you have done so far.
Life is fragile, near inconceivable,
But what you do is unrepeatable.
This poem is about:
Me
Our world
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