Dreaming, gleaming I escape the past. Dreaming, gleaming I escape the past.

Light, forever chasing, Making small, making massive. Light, forever chasing, Making small, making massive.

When I was a child, I was taught poetry wasn't mild, When I was a child, I was taught poetry wasn't mild,

Who says I'm not, Trouble in my paradise? Well, haven't given much thought! Who says I'm not, Trouble in my paradise? Well, haven't given much thought...

Maybe it was not mine ever. Just was like my mirage ray of hope.... Maybe it was not mine ever. Just was like my mirage ray of hope....

This poem is about a mother trying to get custody of her children This poem is about a mother trying to get custody of her children