Children's memories,
reexamined as an adult;
do not hold the same wonder,
but you long for those days.

The world is a crazy, rotten place.
you must find the light within yourself,
or perhaps another, that can light yours.

Just be you,
one of a few,
who don't follow the crowd,
live your life and proud.

The beginnings of confidence,
must come from within yourself.
usually, it is verified by others to grow.
but the first seeds must be planted, by you.

On the path,
there are stairs.
these are the easy climbs.

Other times, simply sheer cliffs,
that must be scaled,
despite the preparation.

The final bell tolls,
we knock on the gate.
St. Peter you there?
we await our fate.

Sandy footprints,
the only trace,
on the road,
of the human race.

That time will erase,
with the wind that blows,
and each rain drop that falls,
as time ever flows.