What good is wishing on a star
When things are perfect as they are?
And, though that’s saying quite a lot,
It’s only mind which thinks they’re not.
It moans about its aches and pains –
Its broken hearts and fevered brains;
It takes religion on the road
But buckles under such a load;
And, when it feels it needs a rest,
It thinks that death is for the best.
But every hill and every sea
Is right where it’s supposed to be.
The same is true of every cell,
Which goes to show that all is well.

Photo by Ali Arif Soydaş on Unsplash

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