Sidestreets

Walking on wilting dandelions, and feeling the cold air on my ruddy cheeks,

The pale dew drops of morning on the frosty blades of grass.

The whistling of cars as they squeal by.

Life in fast forward:

Who has time to slow?

For me I am living in a world so far ahead, yet me so far in reverse.

Take a look around, because tomorrow this might all be history