Where does our mind wander,
For all the dreams we've squandered?
Where do our thoughts rest,
With nothing left to test?

When we are only young
Ideas are never unsung
Temperament, time, older.
Proclivities grow bolder

Less adventurous, per se
Life in a ritualistic way
Tempered and more object
Analyze the subject

Many years, under the hood
Odometer miles, some good
We are now at this place
To look our choices in the face

And answer:

'Has it been a good ride?'