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Mogalixir Nov 2017
A child is born for the circus
Whoosh, a teacup!
Whoa, a glass tiara!
Wowza, a puppy!
One by one we grab on and throw our dreams into the sky
Look at them go!
Look at them soar!
What a show!
Then the child become a man, but the man begins to creak
Clrang! There goes my teatime,
Shing! There goes my pride,
Ugh! Where did this dog come from?
With nothing left to hold on to but the palpable silence
He stares into the audience with blurry eyes
And walks off the stage.

— The End —