I'm not sure when it happened.
When I stopped moving foward.
Surely it couldn't always have
been this way.

Did I get here by accident?

Somewhere on the road to middle age,
I pulled my sensible sedan
to the side of the road.

Sitting under a shady overpass
content to watch the world
pass me by.

I can't do this.

I can't sit still.

Life is movement,
growth,
change,
and struggle.

To stop moving forward
to stop struggling
to stop growing
to stop changing

is to stop living!