Sweet children, I must warn you
That by this time next morn
Something will be lost inside
As something else is born.
You'll forget about your fairytales
And worlds of make believe.
Tonight while you are slumbering
Your daydreams will unweave.
Reality will tip toe in
And by the new day's dawn
The little child that use to be
Inside of you is gone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i like it, . nice. reality and fantasy are both part of my life. read my poems too, i hope you like them.