April 3, 2021
I don’t want my life to be any different;
For I am happy with who I have become;
But a part of me hopes for parallel realities;
So that some version of you and I could have been,
That world might be magnificent;
The tempting lure of the imagined beckons;
But when you compare ephemera with actuality;
You realize that none of that should actually happen.
Maybe I’ve been a little innocent;
Imagination gives us too much freedom;
That indulging in the what-coulda-been duality;
Is wallowing in regret while mocking life in sarcasm.
So better to be a life’s participant;
Dwelling on the past leads only to chagrin;
Best to leave the multiverse to its own banality;
And simply appreciate everything good that has been.
And still a troubling niggle of diffidence;
Burns like a feverish ember of falciparum;
What could have been fades in this modality;
Drifting further and further away as time moves on.