Capítulo 30: Poem 29: A soliloquy

When I was little I wished for love and adventure. Out I would venture to the big wide park and come running home to safety and certainty. To sweet merry dreams would I travel to and as I closed my big chocolate eyes I would escape to worlds of hope. Now the worlds of hope are merely a reminder. Along the stream I now bluster like a bag through the wind with no purpose or direction. What is life? A journey or a commitment to those doomed with emotions. Well, No not me. People can complain of one's opinion like a curse. But I know there are worse things to occur. Not only do you lose your adventurous spirit as you age; you discover you have no purpose. That you are merely a reminder of what you used to be.