So many Saturdays and Sundays
Strung together
Reading my books
Wondering what is best
Which is best for me?
How much of how I live did I choose?
And how much was chosen for me?
Is being chosen.
Holidays are indeed
So many Saturdays and Sundays
Strung together
And they make me wonder
Where was I when my happiness
Was being decided?
Let’s grow from this
Let’s imagine futures
That’s what these days are for
For shrugging off the coats of dry wit
For donning jackets of the joyful
Show me what I have not thought before
And you can have the rest
