WE TELL OURSELVES STORIES
WE TELL OURSELVES STORIES
Once, out of his dreams it came to him
That the one missing was him -
No more a man than a woman
Is a child, willing to believe
In fairy tales. Beware of knights
In white, well-pressed shirts
Hanging in closests filled
With skeletons like him -
Telling themselves stories.
In order to live, you must believe
In monsters, hiding in the sheets
At night, sweating the small stuff;
The sleeping potion of fairy tales.
In the end, he�s just a frog.
|