Our Final Wish For The Magician

between us and the magician
what do you find?
the ahs and ohs and omgs
it is his hands and it is our very own eyes betraying us,
we wish that all these miseries can be solved
with the use of the sleigh of his hands
we reflect once more when we are so silent

his hat giving birth to rabbits
his black baton turning into flowers
his handkerchiefs into butterflies
his newspaper folds turning into dollar bills

the magic does not really work
we take things as they are now
and we let him know at the end of the show
we wish that he'd disappear from our view.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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