Remember the last unicorn
who dwelt in the realm of dreams?
We often watched it as it reached
for the golden apples that hung
from the highest boughs of
our favorite tree.
In the distance, the rising sun flickered
like an eternal flame of hope.
You laughed as i chased the elusive creature
from hilltop to hilltop.
We both saw it disappear
into a consuming mist of memories
and a crestfallen sunset, but
by this time my body had grown weak
and snow began falling on my head as
i waited helplessly for the ensuing
storm to envelope me.
I must leave, not because i want to, but
because the unicorns are no more
and the golden apples have turned
to seeds and young saplings.
when i am gone,
will you remember the times i made you laugh,
or the times i made you cry?
Or will you simply remember the unicorn
that i painted on your bedroom wall?