She looks a little like that fairy, Tinkerbell, in Disney's
Movie: small and blonde. She flutters, smiling, those
Few times she's been with me, and I'm enchanted, Peter Pan,
Led off into a wonderland where she has made the world
Bright, and, somehow, she has made me happy.
Consequently, when she's near, I want for nothing.
All is well..., but she is rarely very near. I do not
Live in wonderland. I live as those poor children
Did, inside an airless garret, staring out at all that
I can't reach. Among those things is Tinkerbell.
Among those things are wings with which to fly.
I am not Peter Pan. I am just another man
Who's gazed out at the sky, and dreamt of being
Taken far away to somewhere where a fairy
Waits, a hopeless, stupid dream.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 66 times
Written on 2018-05-21 at 02:35

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I like the transition you make from the dreamy fairytale to the harsh reality. The poem ends with your typical gloominess as usual.