What if my petals have
all blown in the wind?
What if, when I try to sing again
The notes don't reach so high?
No, not because I don't try
What if I have lost my form?
My will, my mind?
When I laugh I cry
But the birds still coo despite my chagrin
They take to the sky, but, no, not with I
What if the magic has finished
paying me in kind?
If all my thousand trails are "back then?"
Where has magic gone, what shall I find
But the glint of wings leaving me behind?
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