Do You Believe in Magic?
Each morning rises the question renewed,
As if itself anew,
Until in stand, bequest forgotten,
To self, the sudden brood.
The voice begs from acres sold for costs,
Lands of turmoil beneath the lobes,
Begging the body to answer at last:
Do you believe in magic?
Copyright © B.J. Fitz | Year Posted 2025
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