As a child,
the thinnest greenest
wisps of air
held
tiny totemic figures
of me,
carved from sheer terror,
aloft,
and I pretended,
o how I pretended
to be the biggest strongest
bravest boldest
of them all,
a clown-saint crossing
a tightrope on a unicycle
while juggling flaming balls
to the sound of thunderous applause
which kept me in the air
until the war outside my world
coming from the next room
broke in
reminding me
how very small I was
and I fell down
and away
from everything I longed to be
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So sad and so real.
Definite sense of being there
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heart wrenching
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