It was hot and the sun beamed down denying that it was spring, Demanding it was Summer. And She walked up slowly but surely one foot in front of the other in rhythmic pattern that said...I needn't any help, I stand and I walk on my own. Her face sagged with wrinkles telling us that young at heart means nothing on the outside. But I knew that each wrinkle had a story, each crease on her forehead spoke to me and said: I have seen the world. I have done what I wanted to do. I care not that I am old, for I am complete. And I knew then and there that I wanted that. That one day each gray strand descending from my head would say: I am complete and I fear not that I am old. I regret not a year. For now I am young and my skin is tight in my ignorance and my hair is brown in my innocence. And I don't mind. Let me be stupid! Let me run wild and make mistakes over and over again! This is my youth. This is my prime! The energy is charging the ignorance is fueling and I am ready to face the world for I know not how big it is! And when I am done. When I am filled with knowledge that I will gladly learn the hard way, then I will walk down the street one foot before the other and gray in my hair and creases on my face and they will speak to the youth around me. And they will say: I am complete