How Would

How would it feel to be tall? To be rich?
To be bedridden, hungry or poor?
How would I cope with a limp or a twitch
Or a wheelchair to get out the door?

How would I live with no water or heat
Or with servants to tend to my needs?
How would I thrive with no friends I could greet
Or my talents thought worthless as weeds?

How would it be to be not who I know
As myself all the way to the core?
There’s no way to tell but I hope, even so,
I’d be me still – no less and no more.

merhyme

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