far upon the forest lawns
he rests his hat, his sequinned glove
his tap shoes all polished bright
no more dance and beat, this long goodnight
he glides a trail upon the moon
mercurial steps that stardust follow
and fairy wings in gentle flight
guide him down the yellow-bricked morrow
home, home, to neverland and then
he finds his peace, he sleeps, he mends
and outlives
the human heart,
mortal memories,
transient time.
he had no end.
- by Jessica
8th July 2009
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