Storybook
Where dreams run free,
Like a child swinging from a tree,
Where unicorns roam,
And the grass is as soft as foam...
Little do they know,
That the children will soon have to go,
As the pages turn by,
Nothing ever goes awry...
Where characters turn real,
Enlighting the spirit which will soon reveal...
The book is almost coming to an end,
The story is all pretend,
We will have to say goodbye,
This is something all people will deny.