I'm standing at the starting line
each day of life it seems
and even though I never move
I feel I'm chasing dreams
Though from the line I see the place
that I would like to go
I never make the effort towards
what makes a dream to grow.
The time grows short to do the things
that I see in my mind
to make a move from the starting point
my place in life to find
dreams beckon me to move today
towards the person I would be
but standing's all that I can do
or maybe I can turn and flee?
What holds my feet to the starting line
when the gun has fired the sound
to signal all who run the race
that towards glory we are bound?
Perhaps it's fear that holds me fast
to the place I stand today
or indecisions held in my mind
that have turned my feet to clay.
