A text for the mind.

Time passes by.
You're no longer happy with what you've done.

You find it's a product of another time,
another you.

But keep it close, it's a reminder of your growth.

The passage of time never stops
The works you've wrote may be old
They may be immature.
They might even be poor quality all around

But they're yours, you know?
And nobody can take that away.