He Would Wish
Ballad By, J. M. Lilin
He would wish that he was indistinguishable like the clouds that would drift and hover about. The boy loved to fall away in a trance, letting his head float up and away, imagining visions of contrasting atmospheres. He could become unconfined to sail about and glide through the zephyr of immunity.
He would wish he was like the branches of the trees, oscillating skyward and downward. Like a gentle hello that could caress even the oxygen in midair. For not many would take notice of the leaves above their heads, he could be content, as a still figure, dreaming up whatever he’d want.
He would wish he was like the ocean that shook and streaked. He could travel and reconnoiter the entire, absolute world and descend to the deepest depths before blooming through the salty freshness.
Yet, for now, he was a human and he had a place to go. He could speak and he could be heard, and his actions were his own. He could hear and listen. He could taste and distinguish. He could sleep and dream. He could imagine and create. For he could see it all and experience was in his plans.
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