I would like to take time out to define young... From the moment the eyes introduced themselves to the world a new image was born. I reflect upon the world but yet I have went "ghost" to the ones that see the world as a precious object. We rain down our terror upon the ground we walk on like confetti. Since we all throw stones instead of pounds of kindness the world is misunderstood and there-for it is still an infant. Because of this we are still children and have yet reached our full potential. We are what we make and show to one another. But if we are all infants what can we really show?