23
23
How can it be?
The Wind is Whistling
Through the Trees
And Here I am,
And I’m still me
At 23
The Clouds are Fluffy
High and White
The Sky is Blue
Though Rain’s in Sight
A Perfect Day
A Perfect Night
At 23
I Figured I Would
Lose My Head
Freak Out
Tweak Out
Wind Up Dead
But it Was Not to Be
At 23
What Does the Springtime
Hold for me?
A Re-Birth
Or Hypocrisy?
What Shall the Work
Before Me Be?
And Shall I Be
To Blind to See
At 23?
Fruits of Labors
Coming Ripe
It Seems I Have
No Tears to Wipe
Friends Come Calling
The Wall is Falling
At 23
Stoop Down to Drink
From Sacred Well
Light a Candle
Ring a Bell
Come to Me
Creativity,
Clairvoyance,
Inspired Energy
It’s coming Due
To Me
At 23
March 16, 2000
©Darkstar, 2000, 1999-
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