At a young age we decided careers
based on which ones better pay
Played air guitar before learning instruments
and never prayed to any religious nonsense

Now, the Blues Brothers of my kin
are on a mission from God to win
give the scholar within a fresh trim
its a muscle that must stretch
Filling wholes in memory with what’s left

Deaf ears still see you communicate
Blind eyes feel the wavelength
The nonverbal way to say thanks
Ranking values is never easy to do

At a young age it was everything new
A scattered search
into matters versed
Rather than the latter of the worst
Platter of dinner must be served first
to you
Streets and avenues which we travel through
Blue sky’s meet the Bluebonnets that grew out of the gravel

The dirt is loosened as years gives to experience
the same curiosity and exuberance doesn’t age
in a state of amazed adolescence
graze on these fields of decadence
as the maze loses its resemblance

in essence gauging aloofness in senses of innocence