Children dream of bikes, and dolls,
tablets and the latest mobile phone.
They dream of football, Man United,
David Beckham, and Brooklyn.
Of massive riches, green pastures,
horses, gold and silver, clever foxes,
Mogli, ninja warrior turtles, robots,
kickers, and buying the next Xbox.
They dream of Disney, Brave and Frozen,
skateboards, painting, playdoh, and pop,
what’s for dinner, and can I stay out late.
They dream a dream of growing up.
They dream of being stars and famous,
load up on crisps and sugared sweets,
play three chord tunes, practice moves.
In Yemen, children dream of peace.
I am not a silent poet 