Sometimes I sit and wonder,
how the stars and the sun could
reverse it all and make me younger.

Maybe the moon knows more
of how we came to be so different
yet so alike, still searching for the shore.

What if we were allowed two lifetime reversals?
Would you save yours until the end?
Or would you rather not live with an open rehearsal.

Death doesn’t count, and can’t be reversed,
but, with the luxury of two undo’s,
what would you change, what couldn’t you lose?

Sitting here late at night, looking up at the sky,
I can think of many times and many ways,
of using my two, to rewrite and banish certain days.

I would not change

The breeze that became my best friend,
the swing that held my tears,
or the sound of footsteps that were not so near.

I would not change

The grass that hid the magic,
the insects that leaped with glee
or the puddles that always seemed to comfort me.

I would not change

The way I sat and waited,
hoping one day to get to see,
the ocean waves with their arms waving at me.

I would use my two not on me, but for you.
I would trade in my two undo’s,
so you’d have two more to use and make anew.

I don’t have to think this through,
my lighthouse is pretty reliable,
even when distraught and pretty blue.

What sets you free is not what you think.
Freedom is careful usage of the mind,
that exists even when on the brink.

Would you keep your undo’s?
Or would you give them away,
and set sail for the day.