More Time

Never enough time. Being the youngest of four I always thought I was the furthest from all the changes that come with age. I calculated my youth by all the milestones I had yet to reach. Now I find myself on the precipice of something new. Another change I don’t look forward to. A slower

Mistaken Path

I am here but I am gone, Waiting for new time to dawn. One without so many cares, One with less burdens to bear. I am here but I am not, A memory of what I was taught. Like a faded withered tree, Only a figment of what use to be. Will I grow to