At an age of oddest numbers
One questions where to go before she slumbers.
Floating like a feather, this beautiful year
Drifting but falling
In a path so seldom clear.
In the past, odd was found particularly unappealing
One found it's sound and look so sadly deceiving
But 23, you are another time
A middle ground to be accepted as mine.
Your external appearance will be pushed past,
So this year will be the year to find the contrast.
