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If freckles* were lovely and day was night,
and measles were nice, and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight-
but things couldn’t go right
for in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.
If earth was heaven and now was hence,
and past was present, and false was true,
there might be some sense,
but I’d be in suspense
for on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.
If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
and dirt was cleanly and tears were glee,
things would seem fair, –
yet they’d all despair,
for if here was there
We wouldn’t be We.
by E.E. Cummings (1894- 1962)
*(By the way, I personally think that freckles are lovely)