There once was a wise, peculiar Sage,
Known great for his wisdom but not of his age.
Young wisdom is known never to be seen,
Yet this sage was no more than an ignorant teen.
"With age comes wisdom," the wise man said,
Yet wisdom was found in an immature head.
His casual attire made him seem free of care,
And complemented his dark skin, eyes, and hair.
You wouldn't think thinkers wore t-shirts and jeans,
And his face, though scarred and blemished, was shaven and clean.
His shoes symbol'd victory and displayed his youth,
His facial expression represented truth.
With bags under his eyes and lips sealed tight,
One would also call him troubled from thinking all night.
From wisdom comes insight to sorrow and pain,
The topic to which he's been cursed to his name.
Suppose this is why he's been known to be strange,
Yet these things were not noticed until out of range.
Soon leaving on what would be his greatest quest of all-
To an unknown college next year in the fall.
Though wisdom came from his life and his travels,
The books and his music was where he unraveled.
Encouraged by many, inspired by few,
The sage had a history to think and then do.
I suppose he appeared to be wise to be fair
-- Master of silence and lover of air--
Ian! I love this! You went the extra mile with this post. Your character and personality that I have had the pleasure of observing and learning about over the past couple years is perfectly represented with what you have written. I feel that I am really able to identify with things you chose to write, not only because we share similar personality characteristics, but because you touched upon topics that we all can relate as well, such as starting a completely new life next fall.
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