There was somewhere I wanted to go
But never did
In the closed room the panes are rattled
By a wild gust of wind
Let them, I’m just fine
Picking out my thought worms
When that irks me I swat flies
I know all wants will die when I shut my eyes
I have learnt to grow where the sunlight falls
To pluck the dreams within reach of a stretched arm
Or to avoid the rice because it is bitter
I’ll weep no more for the absence of what cannot be
Why not instead spin a yarn of ‘oh, if only’?