Just the other day I was out in the woods where I used to play around as a kid, the rocks and small mounts where I would on wet and slippery moss skid, but that was years ago by now all the trees had gotten rid, laying about in masses and twigs and branches just spread out like a battlefield, god forbid.

The old pond where when there were rough winters and the ice were thick enough we would compete who furthest slid, where thick brush and large tree trunks we could see who best hid, to think that all that glee and all that childish joy I just put a lid, worrying now over how my credit balance does on the grid, how much on the dream house I should bid.

It's a strange feeling growing up and wishing you were older and when you get old you wish that you were young and still had that chip on your shoulder, now carrying doubts and fears on your shoulders like a boulder, wishing that you were not the one being the stakeholder, but I suppose it's all in the eternal eyes of the beholder, but god I wish I never got older.