laying on the field while some sit on the sidelines with no cheerleaders

Visions of the future are bright, while the past is carelessly left unexplained

Progression needing to remain twofold of regression ,always growing thicker exteriors

Hearing not yet fearing, true feelings unknown to what is endearing ,but still unstained

The true curse is if we reverse ,but seeking fun for the future ,not learning from superiors

Budding minds gather together like birds of a feather ,fledgling flock not restrained

Push,push,rush,rush yet come out flush ,Past is past no time to examine interiors

Lessons not always laid out nicely,wisdom slipping in with memories now stained

Bravely pushing out ready for the new route ,plans unmade beds unmade
Sometimes we only call on past knowledge to rest our own fears. R.C.