I've made forays into adulthood:
all it seem to have
is the acrid smell of burning dreams.
...there are no fairies in the world of adults,
though plenty of witches;
no redemption, merely a grave;
love is so full of conditions
it doesn't seem like
happily ever after.
Puppies grow up you know,
And teddy bears wear out.
The books have no pictures
- or they do: terrible word-pictures
of the fallacy of human existence.
I'll stick to children's books.
Published in Whispers, July 2015