October 24, 2010
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Since I was a young, I visited a place,
a magical place where fairies danced
through the evening sky.
Every morning they painted the grass with dew
And never once did I need to know why.
Witches would chirp from unknown liars
With a cackle that tore the clouds
And off I would fly, with my feet of wings
Returning when her fortress was shrouds.
And under the trees I built a sanctuary,
Where only I could win.
Wrapped up in leaves, I was protected, at ease,
But I couldn’t keep age from crashing in.
Some days I returned, as I had before
Expecting the same sensation.
But where I left fairies were fireflies
The witches - birds,
And the magic became imagination.
No longer would moss house leprechauns
Or angels paint the sunset.
No longer would, I, a big kid now,
Believe in something so unset.
Once in a while, on a very rare day
I’d catch a glimpse of that wondrous place
But my eyes are veiled with realness now
And it becomes harder to keep magic encased.
Choose when you want to grow up,
As eager as you may be,
Because growing back down is twice as tough
Once innocence has a chance to flee.

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