_It’s strange to read poetry I wrote ten years ago. I’ll be twenty seven next week; the realization is beginning to sink in._
*The Colors of Consciousness*
A Joy of Life is to Behold:
A Perfect Point of Sunrise Gold.
Where follows that a Pallid Hue,
Of calming mid-day Brilliant Blue.
And after noon we find instead–
A Softly Setting Sunset Red…
The Light entreats that you should stay
Tomorrow brings a Brighter Day.
_Written by a young Tyler Smith in March of 1997_