By = Tristan A. Arts
The old dies and the new is born in its place.
Your body replaces all its cells every 7 years;
From your bones to the skin on your face.
Every atom you had when you were born
Has gone and been replaced;
None remain within your form.
Every moment adds to the last.
We are traeki, each moment a new ring;
The present added to our past.
We think so many things
That we don't even believe;
We are not our "rings."
Memory is imperfect, flawed.
Half the things you remember are wrong;
Soul is as hard to prove as God.
If we are not our flesh,
And we are not our thoughts,
What are we?