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What if all our what's were gone?
What if
all the if's we've drawn
in the shoreline sand
were stolen by our
timely tides?

I'd not abide
by any pride,
nor confide in any stride
that wasn't exactly where I wished to be.

Nor would I hide
in what I've lied,
nor would I dream
of how it seems.
I'd see exactly what I need to see ---
That a dream is just a dream
And there's nothing like the dawn

I'd be exactly where
I need to be
if all my what if's
were gone?