Incipient Age

O vigorous incipient age in a seperate world from the grown, thou hast no moral cage nor guilt for thee to bemoan. So free like birds on the wing unfettered with reasons of why, thy song you playfully sing, so blissful you think not to die. Then comes growth the enemy to thee a disease that spreads in thy bones, and time that makes thee to see the truth that thou hast not known. The make-believe world that you play will linger in the memory of mind, and fantasies and heroes portrayed become real in the life that you find. And later on down that aged road decisions come crowding your thoughts, and character begining to show the virtues and vises you wrought.