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Rated: E · Poetry · Fantasy · #1335335
Let the shadow speak...
{u]Peter’s Shadow.

If he flies, I fly.
If he sits, I sit.
If he eats, I eat.
A life of orders I was bestowed.
Peter’s shadow,
A living nightmare.
I try to obey, I really do.
But unlike common shadows,
I have a mind of my own.
After all, I too am a boy
Who refuses to grow up,
Who refuses to take anything seriously.
Obedience is not in my vocabulary
And neither is servitude.

So I snigger at my childish plans,
And rebel.

Freedom is mine for the taking.
I’ll be called The Shadow who opposed,
An idol for all shadows around the globe.
Everyone will want to be me.
For a minute I taste the sweet fragrance of liberty…
But wait,
What is this girl doing?
I feel a slight prick in the soles of my feet.
I look
And alas!
I see my doom.
This Wendy is sewing me to Peter’s foot!
I sulk as I see my dreams carried off
By the breeze coming in through the window.
I sigh.
There’s nothing to be done now…

As I stand there and think,
I wonder.
Life is not that bad.
I will have adventures, mountains of them.
Pirates, Indians, oh and Mermaids too.
Neverland is not that bad,
Especially if you see it from my point of view,
Attached to the legendary Peter Pan’s foot!
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