Lee Hepworth

A Boy With A Wish

I want to grow up for another
to cast away my wings and no-longer fly.
Wherein I’ll see no more waterfalls painted in the sky, -
or the swimming pools of imagination;
each one containing a mid-fantasy dance with destiny,
no more will faeries sparkle in the hopes of a kiss
from the brave little boy now becoming a man of the mist.
High on the scent of the forgotten sleeping beauty, -
passing away all roots to the fountains of youth

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