Mud

Mud, squished up between your toes. What a wonderful reminiscence of your childhood. Back when everything was carefree and like mud, easily shaped. Your future was blind to you, but you had faith in yourself, knowing whoever you became was the person you were meant to be. You thought nothing bad of the outside world, and your innocence was still there. Mud is a childhood memory that burns like a fire. As we grow older our flame runs out, and we yearn for the years where our lives were easily shaped, like the mud between our toes, feeling the soft, squishy texture of wet earth beneath our feet. Instead of shaping ourselves, we become shaped by others. We succumb to peer-pressure and slowly lose every ounce of control in our lives that we were given. We once had the power to control our lives.  We once had the power to shape our future. Whereas now, we're stuck in the same routine everyday wishing for it to all go away. Our childhood memories, like mud, are fading. Our lives are quickly shading. We're drowning fast into the great unknown. No one knows what the next step will be, only that we will never see; what is to become of this generation; how will we ever shape the nation? Everyone is depending on us, when we’re still in a rut. We’re clueless on what to do, yet we are expected to act like you. Our childhood memories are quickly fading, no one else see’s the faking. Mud was once such a beautiful thing, never again will we see the light it brings. Our childhood memories are quickly fading. 

*I really don't know if this is what you wanted, but it's late, I'm tired, and this is the best I've got.*