I met a stranger and he was me.

I met a stranger and he was me.

Grown older today, but no wiser.
His past forgotten, nothing left of what he was
Buried there beneath the present time
All unseen and unseeing
Without what was, we cannot be what is
There is nothing left except the stranger

The stranger that is me

Written as I approach my 70th birthday

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About pauljanson

Writing about everything
This entry was posted in philosophy, religion. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to I met a stranger and he was me.

  1. Age is a number. You are still you … you are Mary’s you, and Emma’s you, and Maria’s you …Jeff’s you, too.
    My number is only three less than yours … but I have lost a large piece of what was me. I still have the part of me that belongs to Trish and Rob, Heather Zoe and Tristan. The larger part of me that is now lost, though, was the true me … Treasure Mary’s you … it is likely the true you.

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