What I am

We are finding it more possible to believe
That we’re in these bodies, fit without wings– 
I am one, like everyone else, who is assumed, 
To run rings inside the circuit; to be doomed
Under the invisible weight that always falls
Through the thinking of us all.
I am fighting against this pretence world–
Pretence, in a sense,
That they destroy all of our innocence,
By showing us those fairy tales,
To make us make their selfish trails–
Created not by a boy, man, woman, girl,
But by a conspiring monster.
That tells us not to believe in monsters,
Or ghouls,
Or to believe in anything at all.
A thing that’s forever trying to disprove
The possibility of my paranormal muse.
I can tell you, they are wrong.
Look – the proof is in this song.
To paraphrase the mischief Lord,
Whose antics relate to this cause;
If you think that it was biology that this did,
I can tell you, my fantasy assisted.
Science can prove all of these things,
But, in my body fit without wings,
I can fly.