(Some old poetry of mine I found)
Do you see the growing crowd?
And do you see the middle ground?
That's who I am, but not what I want to do
I wish to be a shooting star
But success and valor keep straying far
we need to grow, yet we are dying too
Like a fox that stands the looming fear
in the darkest night, draws closer near
The honor lives, but not where to go
Intentions lay to go once more
But nothing left, tis all I show