Choosing our Futures
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What's a future without a dream?
What's a river without a stream?
Hoping and praying won't go far,
but we think the same of the stars.
I want to be her, and I want all of that.
High above the clouds,
Air cold, thin, but fresh,
My gaze sweeping from
One distinct peak to the next,
I consider my future.
Summiting one of these peaks
Can take a whole day.
