We are little kids
making grown-up decisions
that will last for twice as long
as our feeble vision.
Laughing at the undertow,
we define our youth.
And soon our dreams will change
and become American.
Time is nothing more than a series of choices.
Our minds are mere collections
of different timbre voices.
Our dreams are realized or forgotten.
We are what we become.
We are growing up, but not fast enough.
Be now while you are young.
The person in your mind is no coincidence.
Conform to the archetype that regulates the mint.
Friends are Christmas cards
fifteen years from now.
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