From off to the side I looked,
But the subtle magic
Was no easier to see.
The man,
The one I used to be,
Met me in the mirror,
To tell me no more,
Than what I could embrace,
Ah yes..
Now I see his wasted face.

He was a magician,
Trading in appearance’s,
He came with a flame,
And scarves and cards,
With dazzle and frivolous cheer.

Yet only I turned out to see,
His dreams turned into jokes,
Then gone with thunder
and puffs of smoke.
So he turned a wish into three,
And one by one gave them to me,
Then he smiled and bowed quite low
In a grand sweeping of black,
while softly kissing the edge,
Of his magical silk top hat,
While I was seduced unwillingly.

But he could not change,
The color of my sky,
Or a single graying hair of mine.
He could not make the night more silent,
And when with the sun I awoke,
I found him fast asleep,
Alone with the face of a child.