Magic

A poem that is pretty long.

As kids we believed
That Magic was real
That it was spells and potions
And herbs to heal
But now we are older
And have older lives
But where did it go?
Maybe your parents told lies?
Fantasy dragons riding unicorn poop
Is not the magic that is told to be true
The magic that appears
Can be in me and you.
Or every single person
On every single street
That helps the community
That’s quite a feat.
Or maybe it’s that dog
That you pass on every walk
Now you wouldn’t think
That it could possibly talk
But maybe in your head
You think “If it possibly talked”
Ideas fly like hawks
Maybe a talking hawk?
It doesn’t matter how young
Or what or when or who
But maybe even the most horrible person
Has a little magic too.