When I think of the roads that brought me here I get lost in the stories and find things unclear So many smiles and equal frowns Pondering what pulls the bucket up What lets it down I have seen enough faces To fill a frame Yet nothing is steady Always there is change I embrace this shift But sit and think all I can At age eight-teen I feel an older man Not in deeds or bravado Because that comes with more time But by the thoughts that blow Like el nino in my mind The most I can do Is write a few down And create a sense of peace With the others floating around.
