dream

you’re in a bed
that’s whitest white
you know not whether day or night
a voice is singing in your head
this is your bed

you’re in a room
you feel a chill
a rocking horse is standing still
there is no light to pierce the gloom
this is your room

you’re in a house
that’s tall and grey
where childhood seems so far away
it slips by quietly like a mouse
this is your house

you’re in a street
that’s long and wide
with tall green trees on either side
where neighbours, friends and ghosts all meet
this is your street

you’re in a town
it seems so small
can you read the writing on the wall?
the seasons come and go around
this is your town

you’re in a land
that seems quite strange
where the only iron rule is change
there’s no-one there to take your hand
this is your land

you’re in a world
you rub your eyes
its not one that you recognise
somewhere your freak-flag lies unfurled
this is your world