Is That All There Is?

Little boys? Destined to be men. From  the 
moment they are able to put several words 
together they express their uninhibited 
intentions to do many things to become as 
they are meant to be stalwarts of society to 
undertake arduous, important tasks that will
reflect their manliness. Men? They look back 
with regret at the abrupt loss of the manic
inquisitiveness that propelled them to
experiment, to challenge and to relish life 
for the reality is just so sadly mundane. Gone 
the spontaneity and the glamour, gone the 
aspirations and the excitement, for they are 
merely men and there can only be so many
firemen and astronauts, jet fighter pilots
and titans of commerce upon whom all 
others look with envy. Even those who have 
achieved the summit of their ambitions find 
them hollow lacking the sheen their fevered
imaginations burnished them with as they 
targeted Dame Fortune. Little wonder then 
that so many break out briefly from the psychic 
prisons that life has corralled them within
in reverberations of antics consonant with 
youth and so unseemly in staid adulthood. 
This surly condition of the human spirit.