Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Day 302: out of your hands

You are quite the scene.
You have enraptured this misfit with your persuasiveness.
All the while hiding behind curtains with smoke, bells and whistles.
Master at decorating black lies with white paint.
Pretending the yellow brick road leads to somewhere new.
Sitting in your hot air balloon, hovering just above the truth.
But you never take flight.
And you never ask me to join you.
Because you never learned to fly.

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