I’ve always dreamed I’d one day be a mom.
Yes, I’d like to be successful too:
To see my name in print would be so cool,
To reach the world with words, and to become
Alive and free, no longer cold and numb.
I love to dream up worlds: make something new,
To ask the questions “Where?” and “Why?” and “Who?”
Yet, times I’d rather change a baby’s bum.
I believe I’ll realise my dreams,
Although they seem so far away right now.
“Nothing is impossible!” I scream;
My barbaric yawp drowns out the “How?”
And all I see is distant joyful gleams.