Illusions
and prejudices never die. . .
in
a hurry.
They
are not balloons that can be
pricked
to instant death
by
disappointment and shock.
They
age and wilt and wrinkle instead
like
old clothes a few sizes too small –
patched,
re-sewn, threadbare,
unfit
to be worn any longer.
Sentiment
saves them from the trash heap
and
keeps them tucked snugly away
among
souvenirs and crushed flowers
and
old doddering heirlooms.
Only
with pain and much reluctance
are
they finally. . .
given
away!
to
gladden the hearts of needy others,
who
cannot yet afford the price of. . .
seeing
or
knowing better.
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