
Somedays I want to be a seagull
and soar high and free in the naked blue sky
Other days I want to be a blossom tree,
decorated in pretty white
And for the few others, I wish I was a bewitching pink wild rose
At the hands of an old school romantic.
Whatever I can be
I want to be something outside of my human self
So I can walk on the earth, more lightly
With more gentle considerate steps.
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