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It all happened in that forbidden place
that changed my life for good.
You were standing there, beside the cabin
made from rotting wood.

You said the young become old
and the old become young
where the sweet songs of woodland birds
came from your haunted lung.

You said being different is beautiful
and not to be frowned upon.
For we dance and laugh and sing as sweet
as midnight dreams a swan.

There is no border to our dreams,
for all here are the same.
There is no judgement in this place
nobody is put to shame.

The streets have turned to chaos.
Children smashing their clay pots.
And the world has turned around again
to those who have and who have not.

Note From Editor
I really like the sustained image-work in this poem – the author has worked hard to create a metaphor-landscape which says so much more than straight description could. Metaphor is a fantastic way to begin exploring how to say the things we find too difficult or powerful to express in plain language. The thoughtful, almost dreamlike tone lends itself to the magical feeling created in the piece, and the ending is well-worked and thought-provoking.