Chasing Windmills

What if Quixote wasn’t mad after all?

What if the windmills really were

the dragons and monsters he saw?

 

What if I’m not mad after all?

What if the shadows really are

living and breathing and alive?

 

How I long for a horse to mount,

armor to wear and a lance to flag!

Thundering in to shatter the shadows!

 

What if Quixote wasn’t really mad?

What if there really were waving arms,

flashing red eyes and stout bodies there?

 

What if I’m not really paranoid or insane?

If the danger I see is real, then who are they,

those one who spend their days saying, “no”?

 

What if it is just me and the old Don who

can see them for what they are?

We can’t be alone, where are you all?

 

Have they locked us all away in our cells?

Made of sitcoms, press releases and tweets,

trapped by the easy to swallow lies called ‘news’.

 

Escape! Sharpen your swords! Rise up!

We can’t be wrong when we know we are right.

Rise up! Rise up! The shadows and windmills live!

 

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