I'll be less than I've shown,
though if I were more,
would it be known?

Perhaps it's always been this way,
in the end, that I couldn't be more
than I'd intend.

Now, I'll lay down,
close my eyes tight,
and dream of things
that bring me delight.

In life's portrait, what's yet to be,
oh, how I yearn for what's in me.

Never mind, I'll believe
as I close my eyes, in dreams,
I'll find where my spirit flies.