Worn out seats but immaculate tread;
Motionless legs but a lively head;
Your will for will to grow and more;
To venture forth and wholly thaw
What froze in transition, from mind to condition;
Will strip from rust to raw.

And your comfort assures a blessed present,
But naught from here onwards.
Those dreams we choose to hold up high
May not be ones we later stand by
So if you're desperate for content complete
Lay open to the whims of the world.