There are days when the mind wanders and it finds itself in its own past,

The times when you were at your most, doing your best or being something more,

When it is in those times it is happy, it is at peace, it can run through those times like running through a field,

Grabbing hold of every event and every day in those times when things were grand,

And things continue as the mind wanders, and eventually it must return to now,

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

How can now compair to those days, how can the mundane now be compaired to those moments in the past,

Every step foward is another step away from those days and so we stand where we are,

Afraid to be even one step further from the thing that we once were, from the things we acomplished,

The feet of our minds now stuck in quicksand, the fear pulling us even further down,

Lifting a single foot out of the mire seems such a huge task, especially for the mind that is not what it once was,

We search in vain for a way to both move foward in order to not be left by the unstopping march of time,

As well as move closer to the past, when we were the best or part of a small few,

Foward and Backwards in the same steps, that is what we struggle with,

Trying to take both steps foward into the future and backwards into our past, that is why so many fall