I was a misfit,
And they were my toy,
Such malleable little girls and boys.
They told me in confidence they wanted nothing more from me,
Than just to make their dreams a reality.
So as I provided them the choice of a meaningless possibility,
Little did they know it would confirm their destiny.
Fate and the past lay in the same bed.
It’s what you’ve done that determines what you’ll do till you’re dead.
I crossed the t’s and dotted the i’s,
And what I said next would reject them the prize
Of living in world of glory and fame,
Because believing in magic and wasting time are the same.
I am sorry to have fooled them, but what’s done is done.
What they didn’t realize then was that manipulation was my fun.
They’d laugh and smile at the tricks I’d completed,
However simultaneously my joy had depleted.
Simply spoken with few words to none,
I told them that the trick was done.
I presented their possibility in the form of a card,
Forcing that meaningless paper was nothing hard.
For me it was numbers and suggestions to the suggestible,
But for them it was magic clearly displayed on that table.
How could I know the choices they would make?
They simply didn’t know that the prospect of choice was fake.