What should I become?
A stone?
Hard, jagged lines encasing my shell?
A mystery, a sustaining riddle?
The secrets I could keep
Hidden in the inner most part,
The heart of this stone
Where no one can reach it.
Should I become a flower?
Beauty stretched across my form?
A lifetime of love?
Only to be short lived.
To die, much too soon
To be gone from the one who
Picked me.
Shall I become the wind?
A gust of energy, a burst of happiness?
A vehicle for those who need escape?
I would take fantasies, thoughts,
The greatest desires to the
Farthest reaches of the Earth.
I could extend my hand to those
Sick, troubled, in pain.
To those, homeless, abused,
Neglected, confused.
A rock can sustain.
A flower can love.
A wind can comfort.
But, what should become of me?
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