Theater of Dreams

If all my dreams will be true,
The sky would change from being blue.
The grass would never lack dew.
No death will come when its due.
I’ll play chess with friends; but few.
Husbands won’t get high on brew
And wives would not want to scream.
Instead they’ll dream all anew.

Dreaming on this stage that’s crude,
I’ll make every human prude,
So mankind would not be rude.
And young girls would ne’er be nude,
Or kill themselves o’er a dude.
To survive one needs not food.
In the theatre of my mind,
My dreams unwind – Don’t intrude.

Younglan