White Glider

White Glider

There has been a development,
a report of something strange,
and though nothing is certain yet,
it seems there will be a change.
The top circle are excited,
what they seek is now in range.

In the heat of summer time,
they might send me away,
on a mission somewhere,
so you know what I will say,
mine is the face you never knew,
and as for my aeroplane,
must be as if it never flew.

The submarines in the ocean
sometimes surface in my mind,
and I almost have a notion
of what they hope to find.
Many agents wear dark glasses,
but none of them are blind.

I have my own entertainment unit,
it is called my brain.
I don’t need music on an I Pod,
to save me from boredom or keep me sane.
I promise when you turn around,
you will see me again.

They advised to have no ties,
and now I understand why,
but what we have is strong,
your face is in my eye.
When I return we will relearn
to enjoy our freedom from the lie.

I have felt singled out since childhood
when I built a white glider in the shed.
I let the wind take it up on the shore,
watched it spin high above my head.
Already had my secret life,
and no one cared or knew,
I felt pleasure in the strain on the string
as my white glider flew.

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