At dawn, we try to chase it.

We want to catch it.

Why?

If we do trap it, we can grow up, we can be on our own, we can make our own path.

But tides turn.

It now chases us.

It now chases the breath out of us.

We try to turn a blind eye to it, run from it, and curse it when none worked.

By dusk and grown up, we have right to choose our own path.

Yet,

we pause.

We start to long for the past at dawn.

The time that was sweet, fun, but short.

Not able to turn back, we move on.

What we wanted to chase, what we are now chased by, is ...