Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain,

For he is an introverted tune

Purred quietly by a lion,

To be hummed along with,

Like the mellowing strum of 

An acoustic guitar.

Pay no attention that man behind the curtain,

For he wishes to warm everyone

During the cold wintry seasons,

But his touch can be as frigid

As a tin man's skin is

While rusting in the snow.

Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain,

For the thought might not

Even cross his brain

As to where he is headed

Or if he is simply to remain,

Serving solitarily as a scarecrow.

Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain,

For he is like a lost little child

Searching for a way to get back home.

He will make a few friends

To call his own,

And they keep him from searching all alone.

Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain,

For even though, now that you already know him,

He might not admit to what's true and what's fiction,

For his fears are his vice,

And they suffocate his vision

Of someday taking down his curtain.

                                                                                                                                ~Zachary Tabor