The Wishlist


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Many-a-place we wander

Our minds seldom rest

We dream to the yonder

wishing a life of zest.

And so begins our journey

ideals that reach the sky

Promises made so early

Scales of truth tipping high.

Innocent as we were

that raw but soulful age

slowly dying with sweeter myrrh

we step out of our childlike cage.

The wishlist grows

an endless growth of its own

will it end? No one knows

Nor has anyone ever known.

We're born with hope

We die with it

In between a slippery slope

what only lasts is humor and wit.

So we forget

our wishlist of long ago

away with it we let

until it is to be no more.