He traveled once in Saturn’s rings,
He’d walked out on the lonely Moon,
His heart had seen the farthest reach
Of space
But now he sits and browses life
And wonders not at wondrous things,
Imagination crumbling
Apace
It’s not just years that made him age,
It’s choices meant to keep him safe:
The little steps he took with each
Misgiving —
He did the things he thought would best
Befit a person of his age:
He grew, but he forgot to keep on
Living
The day he ceased to dream of space
He sort of died. The shell lived on:
They called him now a man, and not
A boy —
But sometimes, our nobility
Is lost when we reach ripened life;
When every thing’s a thing, and not
A toy
So never sell your inner soul
For what you think you ought to be:
Remember what it is that is
Your joy
