Aware, struggling to believe we are rolling by upon the uneven plain we seem alright but time is getting on, we are older the once bright flower dulls and dries, all that is new is pushing us, grading us, sorting us, our skins fade with pollutants, friends that were never that, move on, it comes out as, I don’t know you. A form of ignorance at best pushed into margins with no side roads rights of passage declared, null in the void as others now chase you.