A part too heavy to take along, and yet so indispensable to throw away.
The joy in it is agony, the place in it is no place,
the laughter in it is no happiness.
The ways it offered led to no where,yet it cannot be put aside.
There I see places as round-abouts, linking no where to no where.
Suddenly, from the rubble below my feet, I found myself some where.
From no where to some where.
Linking yesterday with tomorrow,
the past has offered me nothing,but experience for the future.
The experience of the past is a gold in the mud.
For the past itself is no gold, but dust upon shits.
M . M .ABIOLA