I dream of my childhood.
Children laugh and play.
There are faeries behind every bush and tree.
We created our own world
Of safety and happiness.

But I, like all children must do,
Broke through to the hard reality of the world.
There is death. Lies. Hate. Greed. Ignorance. Prejudice.

And I, an old woman, greet each day
With a hope that I shall leave this world.
I cannot survive, but I must. I do.
So, I dream. I wish to remain in the dreamtime.
But I am pulled back.
I, who cannot live and cannot die.

And I awake, my face awash with tears.