Should I but drift cross the street
Like a tattered pamphlet that
Could only be used for the first week:
For a fraction of the cost.

Should I but lay upon the floor
As if I was a simple throw
Destined to lay at the feet of those
Who thrive on what they know.

Should I but fall onto the side
Of a dense and forested path
Then I would know how it is to live
Without fear of turning back.

Should I but wake before I die
And renounce my elusive doom
Only then would my mind lie
Peacefully beneath my tomb.