The corner store, just a short walk from the docks, the one made of honey and fresh peaches. I remember it like it was yesterday bare feet and pebbled rock. From the shore the children would run, mom and dad gave a nickel for ice cream. I rode my bike on a summers afternoon and I rung my bell as I neared closer to the hot pressed waffle cones. Mr. Wright became my friend on a summer night, he ran the general store. I’d go in and we’d talk for hours, a fresh coca cola and a fudge sickle bar. I wish Mr. Wright was here on this fine night where I am feeling a little more lonely. I wish Mr. Wright wasn’t flying high with the birds singing the same song he always sang. I wish for a Coca Cola and I dream of something of dasies and open fields.

And it was one step closer to the end. I left my apartment with no mind of where to go but I heard him shout “hurry up you don’t have much time until you grow up” so here I am with a pocket full of change and optimism. Down thirty first street the drummers drum thier roll, I step to the beat, I count the patterns with my feet. I still have no mind of where to go or where I am going but, I must  hurry before I get old. My favorite coffee shop I pass, the smile of the freckled boy almost lured me in but I felt it’d be best to just walk right past. I hold my head down so no one sees me escaping my past and entering a future so foggy I can’t even find my way. I don’t worry about tomorrow or what the sidewalks will bring for I must hurry before I get old. I pass the sign that tells me where I am headed and it is one step closer to the end

Talking about will heal you just a little. It’ll put the glue on the pieces of your broken heart that need a little fixing. It’ll make you realize things you never knew about yourself. You’ll learn a little bit more. Just a little.