The Magician

 

He stands there mysterious, in black cape and white gloves,

holding before him a white turtle dove.

He lifts me up when my heart it sighs,

he dries my tears when my eyes they cry.

When the worlds against me, he knows what to say.

he's my very own magician, whose in my thoughts night and day.

 

A gift he once gave me, i keep in a safe,

where no,one can touch it, deep down in a cave.

And when i am lonely, i sometimes go there,

just to look and to hold it and know that he cares.

 

A song i once heard, a long time ago,

comes back to haunt me, and won't let me go.

I run through the fields, my magician i seek,

I find him all lonely so i just take a peek,

with his head in his hands, and a tear on his face,

i turn and i flee from my hiding place.

 

How selfish am i, to think i only cry,

when ther'es million,s of people with worse fates than i.

My magicians not magic, or an immortal being,

my eyes have been opened and now i am seeing.

 

So now that i,ve thought, i,ve made my decision,

i don't need an angel or a magician,

i just need support, and a loving kind heart,

i wish i had seen this, right from the start.

Reviews

[Edmond Dantes]

pretty good, how old is this?

[rash]

this is a nice poem. magical and still reasuring about a your decision to move on with or without your magician.

[Windy]

I have to agree with James D., you did take us on a journey and as usual it's another good piece. Windy

[The Mad Prophet]

Very good. You take the reader on a journy. They become very involved in the poem, which I find very unique.