Images by Jamie

Image after image it makes my memory. Years after years it makes up my personality. Life in itself holds a meaning; I can't find it. Why strive so hard for something that won't happen? The lucky ones find it, they hold it, they grasp it. But not me. What's so special about me? Maybe the sun decides to not shine down on me, and when it does it burns. But at night the moon smiles; that's all I need.