She was the quintessential starry eyed kid

With a bag full of dreams,

Most of which

Were rather fancy,

Perchance wild,

But none meek, or mild.

Then, life began to unfold

The bag became harder to hold,

And her dreams harder still,

To keep within;

Somewhere along the way

She wasn’t sure when,

They started to fall

One by one;

The going became easier for her,

The bag was lighter

After all;

But gone also

Was the wonder

And the enthrall;

For she had crossed

An invisible threshold

She had passed on

From living

To merely existing.

Image Credit: Photo by lydia harper on StockSnap