What Do I Want To Be?

“When you grow up, 

What is it that you want to be?”

So many times, have I been asked 

the same question time and time again.

The answer is, albeit, simple, 

I want to live, 

Live through bookshops and libraries, 

And the old, invigorating smell of books. 

I want to wander streets, 

Strung with bright lights, 

I want to live through Christmas, 

The tree, the gifts, the presents, 

The people milling about, 

The joy looming in the air.

I want to live through cafes, 

Small and large, 

In quaint little corners and main city squares. 

I want the taste of coffee, 

Every single day, 

Sometimes a simple mocha, 

Sometimes a hazelnut frappe. 

I want to have a cosy corner, 

Wherever I live, 

So that every night I curl up there, 

And read me goodnight. 

And I want to have huge windows, 

To view the city line. 

When I grow up, 

I want to be, 

Me, myself and I.