It almost hurts to close my eyes and make a wish for all the things I’ll never get for all the things I’ll never do and waste this wish on me and you.
To wish to know how many days before I die, to know how many chances I’ll get before I fly.
To wish to live, to hear, to see, and talk, to move my crippled legs and walk.
To wish to know when life begins, to remember the places where I have been.
To wish on a shooting star for something wonderful and completely bizarre.
To wish to know the mysteries of life, to live in love and not live in strife.
To wish to know myself and who I am and may be, and to finally wish to be loved and be set free.