marked days, scratches on the wall, the passage of time, and one begins to wonder, to question, what is more, what is beyond those scratches in stone, the slowly incrementing numbers, what's left to show? what lasting marks, in something besides wood, is left? legacy, and not the car, a progeny besides children, an idea, a concept, a thought, or even just remembrances, photos, pictures, a word, a smile a nod, and some for my homies. what is it, if anything? and you know what? it isn't. nada. zippo. zilch. like treadmarks from a burnout, the wasted energy of leaving marks, the use of power not to move, to get somewhere, to go. and it comes back to living. energy, in motion, energy is motion.