Poem: Cleared Facility
Would you be willing to tell me a story,
About children who are lost,
Like we were when we were small.
That was an era of fantasy,
When we crawled through our own skulls,
Pretended to drink tea,
Found ourselves lost in conversations with birds.
Directed by gourds to play fake tunes,
Tell me the story my friend,
Turn me into a child again.