Sometimes I feel so short,

low to the ground,

uknown to the world...

Sometimes I feel no doubt,

freedom to learn,

to fly through the skies blue...

Sometimes I feel like dust,

floating away in the wind,

nothing to keep me here...

Sometimes I feel like stone,

stagnant and weathered,

old and frail...

Sometimes I feel like sleep,

languidly placid,

knowing nothing but peace.

Yet sometimes I feel alive and well,

happy to breathe,

dying for more.