MAGIC

The older you get the more callous you become
Yet magic started for me at 23,
Balloons and bubbles were a thing at 30
At 60, my heart became wide open ratting me out for every feeling;
little tattle tale.
There will be flashing lights on my grave.
We'll dash the heights when I'm 70
and stay fascinated at bubbles and dreams and inflated beings.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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