There are symphonies I'll
never hear
and books
I'll never
read
paintings that I'll never get to
stand in front and
see

There are feelings that
are foreign
and there are goals I won't
endeavor
-summers that will fade away,
desert me in the
heather

There are roses in a field of
gold:
air I'll never
breathe,
I've so many
decisions that
I don't even
feel free