Written for my poetry class. © September 2014

Peter Pan came back for Wendy
but was greeted by clotted, acrid air
filling his lungs with a grey death

He flew falteringly between skyscrapers
as they pierced the bitter smog, and he wrestled
with the haze, begging for one more breath

But his lungs collapsed, alveoli screaming
as he tumbled toward the concrete earth
golden fairy dust bleeding from his flesh

the second star to the right flickered and died
as neverland's soul fractured across the pavement -
and it will never be morning again

The End

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