A Special Poem
by Rebecca Amy Glaser Age 12, 1984

A little boy grew, with a dream all his own,
To fly to the moon, and invent his own phone.
He had such big dreams
That spread far and wide,
That nothing could hold them
'Cause they came from inside.

As the boy grew, his thoughts started to stray,
Soon all he wanted was a job with high pay.
And all those dreams that he had collected
Were no good now
And quickly rejected.

Years slowly passed, and the boy grew older.
He sat for long whiles, getting much less bolder.
He didn't walk much
For because when he did
His bones creaked loudly
Not much like a kid.
Then one day, while sitting in his chair
The man remembered, the very, very rare
Dream that he had known
While around the age of ten
And suddenly the man
Became a young boy again.