Poetry

My Final Wish

By Marcus Pan

I used to believe in wishes,
I thought they might come true.
A penny dropped in a fountain,
Ripples the water blue.

An overturned cigarette,
Symbol of a dream.
To be wished on at the last,
When the pack is through and clean.

I used to believe in wishes,
And a few I might have gained.
But every one had strings,
Which when pulled left my heart stained.

That's when I looked up,
And saw that they are fake.
Just a faint and glowing shimmer,
Like a dream from which I wake.

Then I set aside my wishes,
Because they fell away.
The pennies I still keep,
Up to this very day.

All my cigarettes,
Remain the way they came.
Afraid to make a wish,
Ran out of things to blame.

Wishes I now believe,
Are for the weak of mind.
The harder you make a wish,
The worse to leave behind.

And as I walked alone,
Beneath a darkened sky.
A pretty little kitten
Crossed before my eyes.

Now I sit and wonder,
Was I right the first time?
Can wishes really come true,
In this world of mine?

I think that I will make,
One final and last try.
I'll take out one last penny,
Throw it, watch it fly.

And once again when I open,
That new pack of cigarettes.
The first one I'll turn over,
Because it may work just yet.

I'll make one final wish,
And pray that it comes true.
This wish is very simple,
To spend my life with you.

The above item may have been edited by the author since its first appearance in Legends No. 23.