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!