Smoke and Wishes

If I was given wishes three
I wonder what I’d want to be
Or do, or maybe even see?

True, any day’s another chance
To work to alter circumstance,
To add some new steps to this dance

And whatever we make or break,
And with each fresh and new mistake
We add a layer to this cake

That we call living: stale, delicious,
This feast wrought from loaves and fishes
Made of bottles, smoke and wishes

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