A stick, a stone a brittle bone.
How far have I come.
Did a wreath dilute my tone.
Did you see my place in life.
Elequent a colorful carrousel
Turning, viewing before the strife.
A wind that brought fire
From breadth to breath
eventually to make me tire
Yet stood only to be mire.
Time turned things around
to adjust only to a laugh for hire.
So I could see the world
in the corner of my eye
the green grass of yesterday's desire
truth be told
and in shire.