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When I was a younger man I had such dreams.
Oh such wonderful , glorious dreams.
Now I'm older, ok, a lot older and those dreams are gone.
Long buried. Put away like some baseball cards in a box under
the bed.
What happened?
Where has time gone?
Remember when you grew up and your block (and maybe the ones surrounding it)
were the limits of your imagination / kingdom?
The next town over was like going to another country?
How freedom was riding your bike without a care in the world.
Where your biggest concerns was, what ice cream to get when the good humor truck
rolls down your street.
Should I play chutes and ladders? Operation? Hungry hungry hippo?
Laying in bed on a cold snowy winters day, hearing the town's air raid siren go off meaning school's canceled.
Having a catch with my Dad in the backyard.
Running with my sister catching lightening bugs , letting them go, watching thier blinking lights go higher and higher into the nightsky, our dreams and prayers are with them, going off into the darkness.
Laying in the backyard, with my hands folded behind my head, watching a airplane high up in the sky, barely visible, wondering where' it's going? Do they see me? I wave none the less.
How I long for those days.
Simplicity.
A few days ago I drove to my old home town.
I recognized....nothing.
Everything I remembered , roller rinks, arcades, movie theaters,
gone, all gone.
I guess the old adage is true, you can't go back.
I know I dwell in the past.
One of my numerous foilbles.
Time is a evil, evil thing.
Dreams or the lack there of.
I used to dream a lot.
Now I have hazy recollections, vague rememberances of things.
I see things for what they are, and brother, they ain't much.
The rat race your entered in, without your consent, the race you can't win.
You do get 5 stars for failure.
Your screwed.
You accept your fate begrudgeonly.
There's a tiny spark of hope deep inside, slowly being extinguished by the
dampness of reality.
