Wandering a world of traps and likes,
sometimes I stare into the abyss of the blue sky,
and the sun illuminating the garden through the birch trees,
and I wonder if this is happiness.

I wonder how many things I will change in my life,
and I wonder if I'll look back one day and think it was happiness.

I wonder if I will wound up regretting it,
regretting changing myself or my life,
regretting changing my path to fit others' expectations,
or are they my own?

What's left after a person wanders,
wanders and wonders?