Why does the wind come and go?
To touch my face with a pretty smile?
To leave me with chilled arms?
Why is it that these whom are best for us, are not for us at all?
Does fate trade scores with good deeds,
reflecting our having lived in one manner or another?
Does the wind build patience?
Or demolish dreams and could have beens?
Are we taunted?
Or prodded to blindly fall into the untamed wind's wills and ways?
And so, are we given choice?
Or must we know the lengths of understanding never to be reached,
and hope the wind brings grace and peace,
with her chilled and pretty smile?
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