Shoes untied and headphones tangled by invisible hands. Keys lost and glasses missing taken when they are needed most. Hands grabbing in bags to look for a phone discarded at the bottom haphazardly as if their hands would be bitten off. Imaginary monsters under the bed and teeth turning into coins. Eggs from bunnies and elves in the North Pole.
Perhaps life's mysteries are there to keep us guessing, keeping our childish manner when we tell tales of Fairies and Santa and Magic bunnies. To keep adults young so when the shoes untie by themselves and the headphones do the opposite we can laugh and make stories about the invisible hands and people stealing our keys and glasses. Life's Mysteries taking us back to a childish time without worry and hate when even the smallest thing had magic.
Take me back to those times.
YOU ARE READING
My Little Book Of Poems
PoetryI've recently got into poems and I wanted to write some of my own.
