Written by James Record in 2016.
Life moves on like a roll of film,
Each day a snapshot of the day before;
The next frame changes only slightly,
A whole year goes by twenty four days at a time.
The actors in my story make the same mistakes,
Over and over again,
As though the same scenes were being played out,
Time and time again.
This film is very sensitive to light,
Better kept in a darkened room.
Dust damages the thin surfaces,
And weakens the projector’s vision.
Film takes time to develop properly,
But everyone wants to see the action now.
If the proper preparations are not taken,
The whole movie will be lost forever.
Sometimes it feels life is being played in slow motion,
Or in a single photo, hung to dry,
Waiting for a technician,
To tell us when we are ready for the world to see.
The movie comes to an end,
Far too quickly these days.
If we do not appreciate each frame as it passes,
The sooner we will become an empty reel.