No Wish is a Wasted One
When I first saw a shooting star,
I was eight
And with my father.
I asked if my wish would come true,
And he told me
That other people
May be wishing on the same star,
And theirs could be granted over mine.
But wish anyway, he said.
No wish is a wasted one.
When I next saw a shooting star,
I was nineteen
And with my friends.
I did not ask if my wish would come true,
Because I did not want to know
If other people were wishing on the same star
With theirs being granted over mine.
I just wished anyway.
Just hoped anyway.
No wish is a wasted one
If there’s even a chance it could come true.