Seven A.M., the usual morning line-up

Start on the chores, and sweep til the floors all clean

Polish and wax, do laundry and mop and shine up

Sweep again

And by then

Its, like, seven-fifteen

And so I'll read a book

Or maybe two or three

I'll add a few new paintings

To my gallery

I'll play guitar and knit

and cook and basically

Just wonder, when will my life begin?

Then, after lunch, its puzzles, and darts and baking...

Papier-maché, a bit of ballet, and chess...

Pottery and ventriloquy, candle-making...

Then I'll stretch

Maybe sketch

Take a climb

Sew a dress

And I'll re-read the books

If I have time to spare

I'll paint the wall some more

I'm sure theres room somewhere

And then Ill brush, and brush

And brush, and brush my hair

Stuck in the same place Ive always been

And I'll keep wondering

And wondering

And wondering

And wondering

When will my life begin?

Tomorrow night...

The lights will appear

Just like they do on my birthday each year

What is it like

Out there where they glow?

Now that I'm older

Mother might just let me go...