Changing the world is an impossible thing,
But changing one thing is a reachable dream.
My dream is to bring back someone I lost:
Someone whose smile lit up a room,
This someone was young and left us too soon.
This someone was bright and bubbly, too.
This someone was loved by all whom she knew,
This someone was taken by a rope in her room.
“Why?” you may ask,
Because her heart wasn’t in it – she wasn’t up for the task.
She felt that all joy was out of her grasp,
So she gave into dark and breathed in her last.
Her final farewell was a quick, lifeless gasp.
As I look back now and reflect on her death,
I wonder what she felt upon her last breath.
Was it humming with desperate regret?
Was it burdened by a heart depress’d?
Or was it of sickening pain bereft?
Maybe my greed blinds me,
Maybe she desperately needed peace,
And she felt that letting go would finally set her free.
Maybe I’m wrong in wishing she was with me,
Because what if now she is finally at ease?
But that doesn’t change my dream.
Changing the world is still an impossible thing,
And I am beginning to think that so is my dream.