By Sydney Alldrin
Oh, to be a goose,
So very far from the abuse,
Of everyday life and the monotony,
Of my daily lobotomy,
To soar so free and happily,
Drifting on air and above the sea,
Oh, to be a goose.
Oh, to be a fish,
All my cares gone with a swish,
Water ripples in the wind,
Every mistake I can rescind,
Arms and legs I exscind,
To be squat or like a worm of lind,
Oh, to be a fish.
Oh, to be an oak,
Branches tangled and bespoke,
Ancient and grounded through thick root,
Every argument rendered moot,
From my leaves and bark I’m mute,
Unable to embark in another dispute,
Oh, to be an oak.
Oh, to be a lion,
With hair like that of the dandelion,
To run in the wild, the thrill of the chase,
Nevermore settle down in one place,
Dappled in sunlight, the finest lace,
For life is never a constant race,
Oh, to be a lion.
Oh, to be free,
Never again down on hands and knees,
Touching the sky, letting my mind wander,
Has given me all of time to ponder,
Life doesn’t matter, if I cannot see,
Feeling the ripples of infinity,
As if I had been given the key,
To be.