Childhood

by Renton de Alwis

Where butterflies fly like planes
it's wings made of rainbows
Where angels roam in dreams
and demons always loose
Where questions are like rivers
with an endless flow to the sea
Where rubbing hands mean friendship
tugged fingers say you're cross
Where birds sing in the rain
and bees never sting
Where a frog can become a prince
when a princess breaks the spell
Where dewdrops rest on roses
and twinkle just like stars
Where all of this will be real
if left to dream our own.

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