Someday we will be too old for magic

Someday, we will outgrow our dreams

Like the becoming of a thing

Like the forgetting of the journey

Someday, the trophy will be seen

As a thing most empty

A thing to be boxed away, forgotten

Someday all we have fought for will be ours

Winning will not be half the victory that getting to battle was

And we will want is to go back to the very first step

To the very first kiss

Someday we will outgrow this magic

Un-have this scar

We will be too detached from this madness

Simply too far

Someday, we will be jaded by the ordinariness that comes with insulation
The wrongness that comes with being right
The damnation that comes with silence
We will forget that tension is our truth
And that dreams should matter

That hunger is a thrill

That loss can be such a starter
And that being 'wrong' can be the best thing you can do for your time
And perhaps the most important thing you will do for all of time

Someday

Someday, we will be too old for magic

And I will be too old to stay up late with you

You will no longer see the lights on through the crack in my door

Someday, there will be bills to pay and errands to run

And changing the world will only be for the characters in the books we will then save up to buy

Someday we will outgrow this magic

And a touch will only be a touch

Someday, they will look at us oblivious of what we have done

Un-knowing of who we are

Because the 'historians' told the stories differently

Or because other storytellers simply choose not to engage

Because they will be socialised differently

To think of magic as the illusion of glitter as opposed to the being of sand and all-sand