Easteregg
Easteregg
I am the featherless man
who's reading Newton in the sky
if you'll try you know you can
and in the end you'll fly.
On everyone lies magic
but while we're carrying our load
we're letting in the tragic
that long and winding road.
The wind is whurling trough your hair
some letters covered in disguise
you might have; missed a fairy there
your nose bitten by tiny mice.
You'll never know how
the ships sailed in without a breeze
if amor's never used a bow
away that romance in a sneeze.
The pages turn and reach the end
i hope that ripe enough you've found
you might have -turned into your friend-
fallen into Newton's basket on the ground.
Then faith ye have and you will trust
that you can be that easterthought,
ashes to ashes, dust to dust
a life of golden you have wrought.
I am the featherless man
who's reading Newton in the sky
if you'll try you know you can
and in the end you'll fly.
Madrason 10-04-2009
poem by Madrason writer
Added by Poetry Lover
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