Oh! The sly old Tom we once used to know <br />is no longer apparent in our whimsical dreams <br />of dreary Life and yellow yesterdays. Tom, <br />with one conceited eyebrow arched <br />to a perfect 80 degrees; Tom, with spectacles <br />in hand and theatrical smile on summer skin; <br /> <br />Tom, who was our Yesterday, Today, <br />and Tomorrow and yet is nothing <br />but is also the Sun's morning rays <br />reaching, yawningly, for the touch of the sky, <br />and the silence that was implicated in his own <br />disappearance. <br /> <br />Tom who rose, Tom who fell but picked himself up and <br />scabs made inconspicuous by the daze of <br />pure wonder; Tom that conducted the Orchestra <br />of the Morning with the dazzlement of brilliant <br />sunlight; or was it Moonlight then? <br /> <br />Oh! But the Tom that we used to know <br />is now gone. The tom that we used to love <br />has now faded away, coming to us <br />only in a vivid splash of Once Upon A Time <br />forgotten reminiscence of yesterday.<br /><br />Ballerina With Fins<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fallen-5/
