I am increasingly concerned that arrive before Friday each week. I'm afraid that the time passes so quickly. Almost without realizing it, I have fallen over the years. Sometimes heavy. Yet I think I am much younger than what I see you, my mirror, I often misleading. I am concerned I got older. I worry when I do not have a life plan and I feel like a little boat to the whims of those tiresome waves. I worry about getting up and get everything done. I worry about waiting in the square Herradores to leave a space in a bank, which has left another older than me, so I can sit. I worry fond alley, near Soledad, that I will be indicating that I can not stick those beatings I bike. I worry that come when you no longer want me. I worry if a day comes that I can not remember. I am concerned that you may believe that I have not given the stature as a parent. Sometimes I worry that family ties will drop. I worry that weary walk, it will come, not take me anywhere. I worry that when you have to think about what you've done in my life, do not find too many important things. I worry that the world we leave to my grandchildren is even worse than that found me at birth. I'm worried that the day comes to praise. I am concerned that you, who read me, think that today is not my day. I worry that today is concerned.
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