Looking At The World Around Me

Looking at the world around me, I begin to wonder...
How do the flowers grow?
How do trees know when to produce leaves?
How does a shadow know just where to fall?
How does a bird know how to fly?
Why is the grass always greener on the other side?
Why it is that something can look beautiful from far away,
But once you get a closer look at it, the imperfections seem to jump out at you?

I know you're wondering...
What chance of pen and paper created the face before you?
What artist carefully constructed the body of this girl among all others?
How is it that these hands move so carefully the type the words you're reading?
What eye are those they reread these words, fashioned and revised the sentences?
What mind is it that envisioned these words and this poem?

Looking at the world around me, I begin to think...
How is it that a flowers elegance and grace can be compared to the clumsiness of society?
How it is that the beauty of nature is is destroyed the human development?
How is it that the nature of man is to hunt or be hunter?
Kill of be killed?
In the jungle of humanity, who is the prey?
And who is the hunter?

Listening to the music of youth, I begin to ponder...
What chance of chords and words made such beautiful sounds?
How it is that one can produce such art?
How it is that love can be talked about and infatuated with, yet one might never know its magic?
How it is that money can replace a thing such as family, or love?
How is that people never seemed to understand that green paper and copper coins doesn't buy happiness?

Hearing the cries of the undead youth, I begin to reflect...
All my decisions have brought here, to this point and this place in time.
All my thoughts and dreams have brought to this state of mind.
All my beliefs and the things I don't believe have put me in this group.
All my goals and ideals have guided me to this position.
What will I make of it?
Is it too soon to tell?

The future is just around the corner.
BIF!
BAM!
Fours years have gone by.
Out of High School, out of Cabot.
Out in the real world, or as real as the college world gets.
Dorm rooms.
No parents.
Parties.
Drugs.
Alcohol.
Sex.
Sex.
Sex.
Lesbians.
Gays.
Straights.
All mingled together
Until the image is so distorted
Everyone turns into one.
A million different people.
A million different lives.
A million different choices.
A million different personalities.
A million different pieces.
All to one big puzzle.
The next generation.
What will become of it?