People see you. People see you smile. They see what you wear, They notice how you act. Can they see what you feel in your eyes? Can they find you when you’re up? Can they catch you when you’re falling? It’s easy to see the person in front of you. It’s easy to judge them, It’s easy to place them on a pedestal, But when does the dream end? There are places that you should be at. There are places that you wish you were at. There are places that I wish you were at. Happiness comes in the strangest of places. The magic of the atmosphere surrounds you. The magic of the evening embraces you. And the dreams of Neverland whisk you away into sleep. Evenings without the bustle of downtown are just for you. Evenings with the gasp of clean air are saved for you. Evenings of spring come forward to please you. So graciously, you wish you could share. You spin around and wish for a present. You twirl around and wish you can fly. You turn your head and look for that someone. Where?
This is the archive of previous writings of the Opiated Sherpa. It's mostly poetry that dates back to 1997, back when I was a sapling of 16. And then since then... this.