Foggy Friday

Its foggy Friday.
Looking through the mist
It seems as if I am twenty years old
Its seems that speed
And the direction of my thoughts
Aligned with the speed
And the direction of the world.

But its not true.
I am really not that young
And definitely not that
Disciplined and strong
I spend my days
Just fighting trough the fog
I spend my days
Just fighting with the world.

And that's the way it is.
When foggy Friday comes
Its difficult for us
Not think of our past
Just gazing into fog
Forgetting what we are
Forgetting that its time
Get up and fight the world.