There are times we must slow down
And start the old process
Like writing with a pencil
In a marble slate with college ruled lines.
We begin to see the truth
And realize how easy it
Is to say our imagination
Is complex.
But the words are easier
Said then done.
We will grow and pass
The shades in our livingnsoul.
To see reality isnt as bad as it seems.
We all must work
Theres no way around work.
But the real job is discovering
Your own past in a way
That shapes us into
The person we see
While we walk alone.
The meditations are faulty.
But once  in a while
The greatest thing possible happens.
You become deffiant
To human nature.
And keen to the way
The world looks
And you see your self
Chasing dreams
Like a child
Looking for the ball
Lost in someone elses yard.
Have the guts to get everything back.
Before the loss Is to great.There
Before the ball forgets
You the child are to old
To ride bikes and to old
To hear the newest changes
Through the young mind
That died in the old body.