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He was the star of the show, making magic out of molecules

He always emphasized in was science, talked about the reasons for the reactions

But to me and my brother, it was always magic

Watching goop change color

Playing with mercury on the carpet

Turning pennies into gold

The Professor, the scientist, was always my magician

Unveiling the tricks of the world

He put on the grandest shows if you let him speak

And oh, could he speak, for hours on end

The cards up his sleeve held the secrets to the universe,

And his shows I got for free while others paid their admission tuition

But I never enjoyed his disappearing act

Holed up backstage, wielding felt-tipped wands against enchanted paper

Bringing his show to other states, talking of tricks to other sorcerers

Too busy to perform for me and my brother

I convinced myself he didn’t love me, I convinced myself I hated him

But I knew it wasn’t true, it was never true

And now that he’s completed the last act of disappearance we’re all fated to make,

It surprises me how often I still miss his show

How often it hurts to know he’ll never reappear, never reveal the trick,

Never move on with the performance

My magician is confined to my mind,

And I vow to protect his show through my words

My magic


Image of A Night at the Circus


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