Spun backwards on the flight of days passed, our youth is what we had. Something to behold, to never let go. To feel its flow, the current of adolescence, running like a fleet of wild horses up our spine, our heads flung back on the rewind. The greatest race ever run, as it passes us by with the chapters of time. Our lives are lived in such a furious pace, ever looking ahead for the next turn. Never yielding to rest on the grass, to see just where we are, as we wouldn’t miss a thing, as we grew till tall.
– Josh Fleming