A twig so bent
When time does pass so quickly and things aren't what they were back then,
I sometimes sit and wonder how things might have been.
What if I now were different? Been raised in a different way?
What if different stars had crossed my path, that brought me to this day.
Just as the twig so bent into a tree does thusly grow,
Form a child's thoughts and mind and he will reap from what you sow
What if the arts and gentle feelings had been allowed to rule my day?
To be able to marvel at a delicate flower and know that it was okay.
What if sometimes playing was as acceptable as the work?
To know the pen of the poet and not draw some questioning smirk.
To know that sometimes crying was just a part of nature's plan,
That sometimes crying didn't make you lesser of a man.
When in times of darkness it is sometimes okay to be afraid,
And when someone is troubled to give some gentle loving aid.
Now what if I were different? Been raised in a different way.
What would have been my destiny? Who would be standing here today?