Monday, June 07, 2010

Too old to Fly

Peter Pan came and took my hand
Said this world was not for me

I nodded in agreement but –
The fact was I’m too old to fly.

Perhaps two years ago or three
Adulthood wouldn’t weigh me down.

Play, play, play
Had coalesced to work, work, work.

A thimble couldn’t keep me young
No more than clowns could make me smile.

Irony, morose ideals were all that tickled me
No matter how I longed to laugh at simple things.

My joy of fairies had been replaced with disco balls
And black lights glowing shirts in bars.

If I left for Netherland, my mortgages would go unpaid
My 720 credit rating might drop down –

I closed my eyes and wept inside;
The only safe place for Adults to cry.

What had I become?

Anything was possible back then
I could have been a ringmaster

Leading lions at the circus
To vast applause and awe.

Why had it become so hard?

There was no answer
And I wish I understood

How explorers dared to brave new worlds
When all their peers would laugh at them.

Columbus was a child
But far from dead inside.

I tried to clear my mind
From all impossibility.

And, as I flew
I knew the truth.

The Great Adults through history
Had never given up on mystery.

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