If Only. Perhaps.

I was going to...
I had plans.
I bought the necessary items and lugged home 4 large bags.
I thought....

But now,
Why?

Breathing, to expel the sadness within.

This little game that we play -
Of watching the carousel rise and fall
As days, months and years slip away
Someday, it could be Me after all.

And if that day should come
When my wait would end
To nestle within your palm,
Sketching through the shifting sand.

Might it? Could it? Would it be?
I know not, for it's not Me.