I spent much of my time going somewhere.  Always here or there, thinking a momentary stillness was time wasted
Hours of progress lost now equates to hundreds of miles down the road.  Much akin to origami
Delicately forming in the hands of a foolish youth at the craft table
Somewhere in the heart of the "Center For Kids With Split-And/Or-Poor Families"
Also known as YMCA Day Camp

One wrong fold when you start inevitably leads to your crane looking an awful lot less like an elegant bird
And an awful lot more like a crumpled and forgotten letter.  At any rate, I have gotten hung up in recent years
With trying to determine which wrong turns I took then and more importantly where I even think I'm headed now.
I've spent too many years watching trains go by and am realizing I'm still at the station where I doubt I want to be.
Why else would I be waiting for a train?