Magic

You're a series of yesterdays,

and promised tomorrows,

ripped calander pages,

and time that you borrowed.

You're a child who woke up,

The very next day,

With dust on your toys,

Who forgot how to play.

Through seasons that changed,

While the leaves fell,

You forgot all the stories,

You once knew so well.

Of dragons, knights,

and princesses fair,

You turned your back,

For you do not dare:


To believe in hopes,

And whimsical things!

Of witch's brew,

And fairy wings.

Of castles laden,

With secrets- trapped doors.

Of fairy godmothers,

and trampoline floors.

You cannot believe,

In a fairytale end,

Because faith isn't currency,

Or something to spend.

So in all the pages,

From yesteryear,

Each passing day,

The world taught you fear.

Well unlearn it right now!

Life is not to be Grim,

Every day is a chance,

To act on a whim!

How dizzingly brilliant,

Life would then be,

If we all believe in magic,

And what we can't see.