Decades are funny creatures- they roam and luber - as if never an imposing threat.
Yet as you let this beast meander and grow, it is all at once upon you!
With eyes like Crystal balls, showing all that was once dreamed- all that is and , alas is not.
But I look into its eyes now- this ugly beast so it is , and voyage on into its gaze the victor.
Few are the dreams not fulfilled- in fact few are the dreams not surpassed
but lonesome am I in triumph-few can speak words as joyful and true
Fore it's rancor has belayed this beast's pestilence
Fangs tha have sunk deep and tore wide the world of victors past.
I wonder now- as it slowly births its child upon us all- small and cute and hopeful- will those crystal eyes treat me as kindly as its mother's did?