Old College Thoughts

Potential? 1-11-98 B. Adams

My mind is one of a kind.
Have I been trained to find
Nothing incredibly mine
In this time?
Or is it meant to be
That I am no better then he
Who lives with out the
Desire to know the answers.
I used to think for hours on end
Of myself, the world, of men.
Could I have written that down
Knowing now what I long to know
And had the perspective of a child?
Captured in text, I’d have written
A library so that when I grew old
I could remember what it was to think freely.
And with my books as my guide,
I could skip this long ride
And directly pursue my ability.
Perhaps the ride is the pleasure,
What a sick treasure to think
That my entire life could be spent
Finding where I was when I was five.
This must be it, this confusion, frustration
Now I know what it is to be alive.

Changes? 1-27-98 B. Adams

From this day foreword all will differ
From this day back.
Will I ever have the chance again
To make such worthy friends
As the ones I’ve made to date?
It’s the chance I long to have again,
To prove that I would not spend
It the way I’ve spent this one.
No regrets, only changes.