The Fantasist

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On the day that the rain came,
I caught you before you fell
and you were as light
as air.

I would send the rain back to the cloud,
if my arms knew sorcery.

On the day that the pain came,
I held you before you wept
and you were as calm
as hope.

I would set the pain down on the ground,
if my arms knew witchery.

But I am not an enchanter,
I cannot conjure such spells.
I am only a fantasist
who wishes you worlds of well.

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