I look upon my reflection and see myself staring back to me.
A common theme as the dreams turn to reality.
Unseen notions once held with brisk tales shared to others.
One could say that I never properly knew myself. 28.
The number seems to slip out of my mouth and just linger on my tongue.
28. I could give you an account of all the trials, tears, and emotions that spurred from every year.
I could recount the many years I yearned to learn when my heart would no longer burn.
I could pick up the pieces and place the puzzled mind of the young boy into the display that stands before you today.
Still trying to figure out the pieces to finally reveal the masterpiece that is covered on the box that very few see.
Another year, let it roll, my birthday.