Is it late, too late to change our fate?
To turn away from the apple tree?
Can a genie in a bottle
lift this heavy weight inside of me?
Eyes open, eyes closed
can this moment in time
transform in the blink of an eye?
Is it late, too late to look away
from this broken mirror?
Can this be our fairy-tale?
Can we escape the sting of the spindle
and the price of one hundred years?
Can we elude the white rabbit?
Is it late, too late to find that lost slipper
or to awaken with a kiss?
Can we make the change, completely rearrange
click those red shoes and find our way home?
Can we call the king’s horses
and all the king’s men
and demand they put us back together again?
Is it late, too late
for me to leave my mark upon your heart?
Can we break the witches curse?
Open the magic door?
Can we become butterflies
that flutter by
moving in slow motion?
Is it late, too late?
© Ann Bagnall

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