Maroona

I run out the back door,
my little brother follows close behind.
We go over to the rhubarb patch and spin around;
we have now arrived in Maroona.
Here the flowers talk and sing,
here our wise friend Simon guides us.
Though the evil wizard may try to spoil our plans,
good will always triumph.

Here is a land of innocence,
of trust, of a child’s heart.
A patch of weeds and a swing set
transformed into a magical kingdom.
The right and good and beautiful abound.
Judgment and skepticism are left behind,
replaced with a sincere sense of wonder.

The years have past.
My brother is now much taller than me.
I no longer travel to Maroona.
The world forces me into reality.
Here the flowers are silent.
Here you are often left alone.
Here evil occurs on a regular basis,
and good does not always win.

Here is a land corruption.
The trusting and the gentle are trampled underfoot .
They try to tell me a patch of weeds and a swing set
can never be a magical kingdom,
and that nothing is magical at all.
The perverted and wicked and dreadful abound.
The judge and skeptic wield their weapons without mercy.
They scoff at wonder and imagination,
and replace awe with shrugging indifference

I will not let them break me.
I will not let them have control.
I will fight the twisted and unjust.
I will help the weak and forgotten.
I will believe in good and honesty.
I will dare to dream of the impossible.
Maroona shall live in my heart forever,
the world cannot steal it away.