I Am Pinocchio Poem by Michael Timothy Rose
I Am Pinocchio
…If Pinocchio dances,
No strings to the ceiling,
…If I brush your arms closely,
No threads of attraction,
If it all came to terms
And a grip could be given,
My desires were realized, no
Nook and no cranny,
You would be the crook, I suppose,
I, just the dummy.
And I would be the wooden man.
I am not real.
I am not sad.
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4/16/2024 4:09:02 PM # 1.0.0.1119
