When I was a child, I dreamt a dream.A dream of the future as it should be.
A life of pleasantness, peace and joyous laughter.Of gleeful mountain climbings,With no fear of wolves or foes.
Hand-in-hand, with neighbours, singing rhythmic tunes Of blooming flowers and dying insects.
A time when nature teaches life building lessons and not catastrophes.
In my dream, no child was a stranger on the neighbours door, because the whole village raised us all.
My leftovers where never thrown out, ‘cos it was meat for another child.
My uncle was never a threat when we went out for ice cream, he was myguardian, not the rapist.
Grandma and Grandpa were my historians and film makers, not the latenight soap operas.
Daddy never complained the meat was small, and Mummy never saidfeared she had a rival.
I saw no kid on the street fighting to make a sale, It was called ananathema.
The house maid always knew her place,for Daddy was the bread finder, while mummy took us through the schoolof virtue at home.
A world where I study even after my head says: “full!” for ‘expo’ wasn’t atradition.
My music were my nursery rhymes, not raps that make make me forgetschool work.
I didn’t know what stealing was,for it was normal to be content with my property and return every found item!
Lying was like hallucinating and having delusions. Yes, so was the world of my dreams.
For now I choose to dream on, for the perceptions of reality makes me shiver with fright.