Good night, my dear, my mother said,
before she tucked me in in bed.
SHe wished me sweet, sweet dreams,
I should remember all is not like it seems,
like a ghost or a dragon,
which do not exist,
she would hunt down and fight them with only her fist.
But tell me, dear mother, about this nightmare,
which is the only one so frightening, able to me scare.
For how will you fight a woman in grief,
or heal a man, who's killed for his belief?
Will you hit the girls at night in the street,
who sell themselves for paper, with which they buy their bread and meat?
How about all children, those who have no home,
will you hunt them down, break their weakest bone ?
Ghosts and dragons,
what angels they could be,
if we them next to our world could see.
Because they are not as heartless, they are not as cold,
no they are simple fairytales,
only fantasy and old.
All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Karoline Goldberg.
Published on e-Stories.org on 12/30/2006.