There isn’t a will in the world, 
no amount of money you could give. 
 
You couldn’t bake me 100 cakes, 
or allow me one wish. 
 
You couldn’t bring back my goldfish, 
from the cold depths of death. 
 
You couldn’t even find me love, 
someone to hold or kiss. 
 
Not if you made every word I wrote rhyme, 
game me the powers to jump, and fly… 
 
No matter what you do, I really don’t care 
there isn’t a thing in the world, 
that could make me return a library book 
with time to spare.