Who has bestowed upon you the powers inflicted by a crystal ball
To expect and imagine
Sit there and look at the gleam in your eye reflected by a tarnished mirror
Soon to shatter
Clinking and spreading beneath your feet
Feet soon to fall
Imagination has banished you to collect wages
Wages soon to disappear with these pockets
Pockets accustomed to your hands as you walk starring down only to lift your head once or twice and look hope in the eye
A more frightening stare has never been witnessed by the moon
You have misplaced your powers possessed in it’s world of un-realities and so its illusive guests have mislead you into a dark room of indistinct figures you once saw as simple furniture in the light
The simplicities in such details have faded into a flickering light like that of a fireplace engrossed in its flames growing shadows up and down your life
As they grow and shrink with cacklings mistaken’d for laughter
But, oh, laughter it is
Laughter of the most meaningful anticipation on you to put pen to paper
These ghosts which have once prodded you into a world imaginary, watch as you stagger into the actual
These ghosts who have commended you for your surprised excitement as once a child you were
These ghosts who now only find amusement in your doubt whether it has gone to return or has it ever been so
Fixate your gaze in the wisps of fog deluding you into observing adulthood
Better yet glimpse into the cackling fires which once illuminated your minds eye into essential influence to produce a work of fantasy you once fancied above all intellect and unabashed fear of tomorrow

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