Nov 8, 2007


I used to dedicate this poem to my mom and dad.
Now I will offer every words of this to Bien.
We used to call him BS but he do not like to be called that way now. He will always insist to call him Bien.

Wander, wander, wandering
The urge to roam
to dance
to fly
to be,
the search for free
the need to see
to go
to find
to search
to do
My thirsts
So easily quenched
So close to home
And yours so grand
So elegant
So marvelous
Climbing mountain tops and riding elephants
and tiger hunts
and dancing bears
and far off stars
and trip to Mars
and all of it
So wild
So vast
So freee
As you wander

And then the best part of all
When satisfied
and happy now
You wander
home to me

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