By: Devon Clements
Exploring the traverses of the internal,
Like some long forgotten picaroon.
Delving into the abstractions,
Contrasting like the bloody snow.
One sunset is another, and who am I to stay between?
I thought one day perhaps I’d find it.
The search as fickle as our hearts.
Lost in the endless sea of time
Each day we yearn to break our backs,
For the sake of the forgotten dream.
As drink is to the alley dweller,
So too does it quench my thirst.
It leaves me yearning ever-after,
I’ve been stumbling since my birth.
I didn’t ask for what I’m given,
Never sure of what I’ve got.
The song, methinks is ending,
I only have one more shot.
Devon Clements. Class of 2018. English Philosophy major. Missouri. Soccer. Coffee. Historical Fiction. Edward Sharpe. Of Human Bondage. Travel. Moleskine. Pens. Vans. United Kingdom. Trees. Gym. Literature. Sour. Northwest. Theatre. Explore. Skateboard. Run. Cats. Blue. Finished.