I’d love to wonder through the trees,
I’d pick up rocks, and climb into the breeze.
I’d walk through the swamp, looking for eyes,
I’d sit there for hours, a little spy.
I’d juggle everything I could find,
If I ate it, my mom wouldn’t mind.
I’d ski on water, and on ice,
I’d cry about the cats dead mice.
I’d sing all the show tunes that I knew,
and as the time past, I grew.
I realized that it’s all cliche,
But there’s nothing that’s gone astray,
As much as things seem to change,
They all seem to stay the same.

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