A room full of books with so much time.
Knowledge leaks out in all spaces.
Yet, even with all the wisdom, he remains a child.
Playful at heart, imagination running wild.
As long as the room remains shut, he will stay young, innocent, immature.
Only through walking across the wild, venturing into the unknown,
being scarred, being bruised, being healed and being loved, will he grow.
Only through hardships and reality, with people, will be become an adult.
All this has yet to come. It may never as well.
So much time, so little.
The room still remains shut, almost ready to be burst open.
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