One day at school
hands shot up
across the room,
for show and tell.
Lailah went to Disney world.
She had her mouse ear cap on
and pictures glued to a piece
of cardboard held up by an easel.
She pointed to pictures of her smiling face
in front of castles, eating cotton candy, amidst
a slew of characters from the stories Little Man was
Little Man was read to at night
by mother when she came home early.
Sometimes he’d pick the book up himself and
trace the lines of words he couldn’t read
But the pictures, oh, they were fantastic;
his imagination ran rampant, with thoughts of
spending time with those creatures and
taking part in their adventures.
So when Lailah pointed at her photos, his mind lit up
with a fervent flare.
The room was full of children who had gone
to such exciting places, and they all flew there.
Little Man mused over the photographs a moment,
and tried to picture himself flying over those places,
catching wind in the feathers of his wings.
Everyone had gone elsewhere for fun, but
he’d been home passing the time with sister and
his older brother. They hadn’t gone anywhere either.
Soon the hands around the room began to collapse
and it was time for Little Man
to take his turn up front. He passed.
At home he asked mother
‘Why couldn’t we go?’
‘Why did we choose to stay home?’
Mother replied: ‘we didn’t choose’ and
Gave him a kiss on the temple.
Though the kiss had faded silently,
Mother’s words remained to heat his head.
For a while Little Man decided that the lucky ones
were chosen, and they had all the fun.
They took pictures, they made memories,
they met Mickey.
That was all that mattered to Little Man.
And it never struck him to think
that all those things were only made to look easy.
He never thought that fun cost anything,
or that flying was restricted
for the staunch well-documented.
He could only wait patiently for a day when a
decision would be made that would
declare him worthy of the luck
that others possessed.
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