I will live but once

I should make the most of it

You should do the same.

A Haiku for Panalee

When we move into a new home sometimes we like to paint the walls new colours. Brighter, pinker, whiter, crisper; it doesn’t matter. We don’t seem to realise that what we are doing is not merely painting over a wall, we are painting over the memories held within the walls themselves. Think about all of the sights the walls have seen: lives, maybe deaths. I mean, it’s not like the walls could tell you, even if they wanted to but even if the walls could talk, it’s too late now. The family who lived in the house last, their memories have disappeared under two coats of that blue that you’re so fond of. It’s no wonder that we are so easily forgotten.

Either that or the green and orange stripes they picked out was getting on your nerves. ;)