Putting them at the corner of
the page in the teeny tiny
alphabets of my possibly
best handwriting in different ways,
those dates are and were
quite an exposition of my days.
There have been times
I wrote them incorrect,
dragging them ahead or
behind, at times
keeping the margin of years,
unaware of creating the
chronology of smile and tears.
I have been saving many of them
as special days in order
to be included in my memoirs,
while few are imprinted within as
Attached to me for lifetime without
needing any description.
I would call them the tags of my life
succumbing to die, adding up to thrive
shaping up as a book till I am alive.