My strong legs may carry me to great places,
My arms may be spread wide to comfort,
And my eyes may see the vast expanse of this world I live in.

There comes a day for choices,
Great choices it may be.
My heart may waver,
My ears may hear,
My fingers may sow,
And another force may reap
What I cannot fix myself.


Broken glass it may be
Choices are few to thee,
Pick it up,
And be cut,
Letting the crimson flow-

I may heal many,
I may break hearts,
I may cry,
My shoulders will be a resting place for your tears,
My lips may spread your words,
And I may write the last phrase,
“The End.”


But do not fear for the end is not the end,
But the very beginning-
For everything.