If only I could draw real well,
                                            Or have something that I could sell,
                                        To make a living when I'm big...
                                            I can't, but wish I could.  Oh, fig.

                                        If I could make all "A's" in school,
                                            And not be called a nerd or fool,
                                        I'd dance around and feel so free...
                                           But facts are facts; I can't, you see.

                                        If only I could skate on ice,
                                            Or water skiing would be nice,
                                        But both of these are done by some
                                            Who know....I don't and can't.  Oh, bum.

                                        If I could run and win a race,
                                           You'd see a big smile on my face.
                                        But once I fell and skinned my knee...
                                           Running's not for me.  I can't, you see.

                                        If I could dive and gain some fame...
                                            But once I jumped and didn't aim,
                                        And landed flat upon my back...
                                            No more of that.  I can't, no knack.

                                        If I could get upon a stage,
                                            And laugh and cry, get in a rage,
                                        Like actors do.  They seem so free...
                                            But then again, I can't.  Not me.

                                        If only I could somehow speak,
                                            In languages like French or Greek,
                                        Or Japanese or even Dutch...
                                            Oh, nuts.  I really can't, not much.

                                        If I could sing in some cool band,
                                            Or play the drums on a band stand,
                                        I'd feel that I had made it big...
                                            But you know me.  I can't - can't dig.

                                        If only I could write a book,
                                            Or somehow even learn to cook...
                                        But these are done by clever folk.
                                            That's just not me.  I can't, no joke.

                                        If I could learn to ride a horse,
                                            In racing I could win the course,
                                        But should I ever even try?
                                            The world knows that I can't.  Oh, my.

                                        If only I could do something...
                                            Can't run or swim or play or sing.
                                        Is it because I'm only shy?
                                            Or maybe just afraid to try?  Oh, why?

                                        I have to try and start somewhere,
                                            For If I don't I'll get nowhere.
                                        I'll start by trying piccolo.
                                            I think I can.  Why yes, I know!
                                      
                                                    
                                       Another children's story by EDH:
                                  Thomas VanDoon and the Itchy Dragoon

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                            Copyright 1991, Elton D. Hannaman
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