Amateur Cartographer


It started with these magic beans.
Okay, not really, but it may as well have,
for I stole my prize from right under the Titans noses.

I wasn’t expecting to find her,
much less pull off an elaborate heist.
But on a school trip to see
the remnants of the last time war,
I turned a corner
and there she was:
my golden goose,
my singing harp,
locked up in a museum of all places.

In this hall of giants,
where men fought wars with seconds
instead of weapons,
I knew we had to run away together.

And what a prize she was.
She may not look like much,
with her fashion sense stuck in the sixties,
but she’s bigger on the inside.

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