One “Can’t”

“You can be anything,” she said,
  In a quiet moment before bed,
  But the child could see some sadness there
  And so asked, “Mom, what’s wrong?”

  The mother paused with a distant stare,
  As though she could see someone standing there;
  And said, “You could be President, for sure,
  Or the reason we find a famous cure;

  You could be a parent, a star, a friend
  Who is there through the joy or the bitter end.
  But there is one ‘can’t’ for us all, you see:
  You can’t be the person you used to be.”

The child looked up, and said, “If that’s true,
She must have been great to be better than you.”

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