Become

I'm missing something,
in those sidewalk-less streets,
dirty with the hopes,
less depth than a fishbowl.

Golden in appearance only,
the party is dying in me,
scrambling to catch yellow fever,
a place to call home,
familiarity really.

The middle kingdom afar,
here in the echo of beauty,
reaching for the shallow waters,
the glitz, glam and giant ego.

With this confusion of desire,
wanting the crowds, chaos and pollution,
trading the quiet, breath-taking rockies,
who have I become.

City dweller like no other,
preferring the fast pain,
curbed lanes, fake feign,
completely vain.

Who have I become.

April Project Explanation: I have neglected my blog for the last 4 1/2 months, mostly due to my pursuit of good ski powder days and a business opportunity, both of which I didn't manage to catch enough of the tail to pull.  Now, it is time to recenter myself and catch up with my favorite thing to do, write poetry. I aim to write one piece per day for the month of April.
__________________________________________________________________________________

Copy written by Shannon Shue. All Right Reserved. No portion of this material can be reprinted, recited or published with the expressed written consent of Shannon Shue.