And today, even as foolishly childish as it sounds, more desperately than even I wish for those wings.
Where are my stars and dandelions? Even a fountain and pennies would do. Yet, even if I stayed up all night counting every star I can see with a wish, even if I blew the spores off of every dandelion in the world until the air around me was thick with them, even if I threw a fortune of pennies into the fountain until it was more metal than water; I would never get my wish. I won�t ever have my long desired wings� with which I would have flown to you.