Sunday, 25 November 2018

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



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