Musings
Could the words have come?
Could I have made whole worlds,
peopled with the good, the bad,
and all the happy and all the sad?
Could I have dared to eat a peach,
and boldly painted outside the lines?
What might I have made of my life if
I had only tried to fly without wings?
But life is always as it wills itself,
forever as it should be, as it must be.
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