Processed with MOLDIV


Vinyl gloss, chipped and chafed,

Vibrant colours now faded,

Dirty finger marks where chubby hands once grasped,

Bribed and pushed to ride the bridled and harnessed creatures,

Tigers, horses, peacocks, bears,


Exotic plumage, and fiery manes,

Begging to be liberated from the yoke,

Legs in motion, feet a-strutting,

Crowns craned and strained against the fiber that will it to stay astride this whirling carousel,

Vivid eyes of the lion gaze ahead,

To tell tale wonders,

As if seeing some unseen,

Envisioning the pride lands and the ecstasy of freedom.

Beyond the mechanical whirring and flashing lights,

Monotony of carnival music,

The scent of stale popcorn,

The streams of melted cotton candy running down his majestic head,

The screams and hollors of parents,

And the clink of coins and the ripping of tickets,

Beyond the glossy frame of this encasement that smothers his glory,

Beyond this glass menagerie.


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