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My dream is to live till I am ninety five.
And become famous
For looking twenty five
With a fabulous figure.

To be invisible
And become a nosey parker.
Listening to confidential conversations
And going where I have never been before.

To time travel.
Go back to witness historical events.
Meet people I admire,
And find my ancestors.

To invent a happiness bomb
That will explode and saturate the world.
People will walk around with a permanent smile
And love one another.

My dream is to be
Accepted and loved
For who I am.
This wonderful creative passionate person.
But the facts are, I am who I am
And its all but a dream.

Fri, 19 Oct 2007 08:54 am
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You are right, it is sentimental . At the time I wrote this poem I was questioning certain issues that where affecting my life. Happy to say they have been resolved. I find writing very theraputic at times.
Fri, 19 Oct 2007 01:01 pm
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Hi Val

Thanks for your feedback

The dream state of the mind is an oasis of reflections and very well illustrated in your poem.

Tell you what I think all the writer have gone writeoutquiet.

Listen could you do mme a small favour. There is a poem on review called 'Chocolate', which my 9 year old son has written. Please could you post a comment on it to make his day.

He has asked me to read it at the Howcroft on Sunday


Sat, 20 Oct 2007 05:10 am
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