Once
upon a
time
Once
upon a time
tossing
up a toy
Waiting
for its return
Catching
up to throw back
was his feat
and pastime.
Now he
is in a different world
Not
ruled by toys and kites,
Nor
small cycle rides, nor
On rocking
horse when flying
With
wild imagination high.
In a
room of his own,
Desires not his, but ruled
by
instincts, dominated
by
jealous multiplied
quick
turns of money making
rackets,
mirage or miracle
only
Time should descend
to
prevail upon. All around
fake
discipline intruding ,
questioning
his spirits “why” ,
he is
in doldrums,
knows not how to convert
the
whyness into wellness,
no toy
around , but only
mugs and key boards ;
waiting for his Muse
to
spread around
her magic wand
so
that he will be back
to
childhood days innocent.
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