When I experience hurt
I indulge
In magical thinking.
Very annoying
For others,
Unfamiliar with the technicalities
Behind my tricks.
He or she
May say,
That “I” am mistaken in my observations.
But with the wave of
My magical thinking wand,
I create mystical anagrams,
And hey presto,
I pull a bunny
Straight out of
The top hat.
Sadly, the rabbits
Only live as long
As the delusion,
And I find it draining
When they keep coming along
Day after day after day.
Categories: Art, Blog, Creative writing, Philosophy, Poem, Poetry, uncategorised
A Different Country 
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