Sometimes I stay half-awake in bed, realizing that I am living a life I would rather not be leading. It seems I am not in a reality I am actually in. After I am fully awake, I am often frustrated.

Oh, How I mourn for my lost youth.

Looking into the mirror, I saw the weathered face of an old man. So very frustrated and sorrowful. Yet a bit funny.

by Randy

Youth is just like the little drops of water we find on the petals in the morning, clear and pure. It's precious beacuse it will soon evaporate and disappear in the air. Small as it is, it magnifies stripe of the petal; clear as it is,it shines with the sunshine, instantaneous as it is, it reflects the whole of the blue sky. I saw it roll down the petal and fell into tiny pieces, I heard it permeate into the soil and irritate the root of the flower. Tomorrow morning, there will be dew again on the petals,but did you ever know, that is not the one we found yesterday, just like the youth that slinked away and never return. How could I forget all these little drops of water, just like the days of youth that would keep in my mind for the rest of my life, perchance, when I think of it, I would know that I has evre been a juvenile as clear as the little drop of water.