I have lived this life 19 years long.
I have studied some about
people, relationships, books.
I am starting to learn there is no peak,
no happiest moment.
But there are many happy and unhappy moments;
a series of events on a timeline.
Right now I look forward to the summer,
but summer ends when September comes,
and the next month is my 20th birthday.
Then winter will come and I'll be in the same spot I am now,
but one year older.
Maybe defining life is a waste of time.
Maybe it is different with every person.
Maybe I don't know enough yet to form a conclusion,
but I do know life is not a videotape.
It cannot be rewound or edited.
It is a continuous forward motion.
Sometimes I feel small thinking about it,
like I am only one piece of a giant jigsaw puzzle,
or one star in the universe.
No matter,
life moves on,
and my life will continue without hesitation,
even after the last line in this poem has been written,
and I put the period on the page.
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