I used to turn my head out
to see how beautiful and slow the world was
From inside the coach
with a glass as my boundary
The fields how green
The skies how blue
how endless and limitless
how grand the scheme was
how infinite this happiness would scroll
but now the world has grown stagnant
I stare
and now with my eyes I see
while my heart cowers in fear
my feet are rooted to the  muddy ground
and the harsh dry wind thrashes me
as my shield of glass has shattered
I understand now I am not protected
by the mystic energy of childhood
by the power and magic of imagination
I see the train **** pass me
a life where I was once a passenger
but now it seems I am not
Now the scene is set
and the ****** of my excursion has passed
I am no longer in the coach where I once sat comfortably
enjoying every passing second
I see now with my proper senses
and I feel the brush of the winds
it pains my that I had realized
I had to stop to see that the world was moving.