your gift
i sit in silence and i watch amusingly
the muses of illusion
dancing teasingly
upon the wisping ether of my thoughts
each footprint
is laced with latent poisons
of guilt, doubt and fear
eat if you will
drink your fill
and witness the death of your dreams
or . . .
you can dance along
be mirthful
sing them a song
your song
teach them joy
and their “right” filled wrongs
of their ways
their desolate days
and when finally
they tire of you
bid them adieu
and thank them anew
for reminding you of your gift
© 10 February 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.
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