(no subject)

I hate being bugged. Buggers. lol...Bother!

Not a great (or even good) poem, but more fun than doing my historical investigation.

So again, I was left to ponder,
all those things of which boys wonder,
wondering, what should be done.

It was close, I must admit,
to settle for that which others commit,
committing, to what they deem fun.

But then I found, that which i had,
I had already, which kept me glad,
knowing, that life is not what i see.

So now I remember to keep my eyes open,
looking for that which to me is a token,
remembering, tokens are not free.

I look again at my future years,
with my own eyes that are not theirs,
seeing, better of what is to be done.