I seem to start myself again anew.
So often changing faces, letting go
The parts of me that once were strong and grew,
Refresh the pages and reboot this show.
The show of me, the serial of life;
Each episode restarts, resets the quo,
A thread throughout which follows demons rife,
Stable in what goes on and on to blow.
Restart, release, retread the foolish things
I seem to do again anew, but not
Forever, not unending, just some flings
With cycles turning time into a knot.
I'm convoluted, this I know is true
At least I start again with freshened hue.