A/N: I know the slashes are hard to read through but I personally feel they flow better than the normal paragraphing. I'm not going to stop using that but I think this style suits this poem. Anyway. This isn't meant to offend anyone or any religion that doesn't (or does) believe in magic or something. Seriously, I don't, myself, but it's just imagination and stuff.
if you maybe/one day stopped to think/if you believed in magic/what would you love the most?
then you have to ask/yourself some fundamental questions/what is magic/and who are you?
and if magic is everything/and you are something/then is magic part of you/or are you a part of it?
but if magic is everything/then what are all the little somethings/but part of magic themselves/(but magic themselves)?
and then you would answer perhaps/the way you could dissolve in it/the way you could lose yourself/and then find yourself in it.
but if you assume/that magic is not everything/and magic is something/and you are something,
then what is magic/and why is magic/and who is magic/and where is magic
and some people would answer maybe/being able to fly/but we have airplanes and gliders and parachutes/though it's not as s.i.m.p.l.e as a wave of a wand -swishswish-.
and some people would answer maybe/making progressions in science and knowing things we cannot dream of now/but we have technology and determination and the human mind/ though it's not as e.a.s.y as a wave of a wand -swishswoosh-.
and some people would answer maybe/just being able to touch magic know magic and die happy/but then there are things in this world/greater than magic though they're not as s.p.e.c.t.a.c.u.l.a.r as the wave of a wand -whooshgasp-.
and if you ask me personally/then I would say the way/magic can know what you want/when you don't yourself.