I Could Be a Dreamer

When I was very young
I couldn’t wait to see,
when I was all grown up
how significant I’d be.

I could be an astronaut
floating out in space,
pushing back the boundaries
of the human race.

I could be a Minister
or perhaps I’d be a Priest,
chistening some new born child
or praying for the deceased.

But if I were a Catholic
then I could be the Pope,
bring comfort to the needy
and to the helpless, hope.

I could be a soldier
fighting hand-to-hand,
for reasons I don’t need to know
or could not understand.

I could be world’s tallest man
assuming I got bigger,
or world’s best mathematician
if only I could figure.

I could be a lion-tamer
make those big cats dance,
feed them all the folk I hate
given half a chance.

I could be a scientist
and win the Nobel prize,
for some dramatic scheme
involving robot eyes.

I could just be a dreamer
for none of this is true,
dreams replace reality
the way they often do.

I could just be an idiot
but that’s too near the truth,
wise words coming far too late
from a long-forgotten youth.


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