A
Little
Time
At
The
Center
Of
The
World,
Life
A
Metered
Rhyme,
Paint
In
My
Hair,
Promise
Everywhere.
Eventually,
I Left
The
Throng
For
The
Company
Of
A
Few,
Doing
What
I Do,
And
Often
Recall
The
Thrall
Of
Being
Among
The
Best,
Yet
I Have
No
Regret
About
My
Fabled,
Heedless,
Youth,
And
That’s
The
Honest
Truth.