Becoming Someone

More about Becoming Someone

Dear Al,

Little things, the dew upon my face.
I ride the serpent to waters edge.

I find myself in the search,
Something I thought I lost.

Buried deep inside, curiosity grips.
Alone I glide, this trail sways.

A world focuses on the moot.
Colosseum fills, chariot bets take place.

Quaint life a luxury the maw sets its sights upon.
Pleas, let us go about our days.

Taste the sky, the dew lingers upon my wing.
Finding myself whole, time flew, I gather my things.

I won in loss, my trail grows no moss, the sun meets the moon.

FE&E 1
1ov3 ADB

What would this life be without excitement, without renewal an blues.