I dreamed again, <br />about Big Ben, <br />how London reeled <br />its fate seemed sealed. <br /> <br />There was a bridge <br />up near a ridge <br />which you could climb <br />if you had time. <br /> <br />'What is the use', <br />I asked sleep drunk, <br />of the rotund and <br />helpful monk. <br /> <br />'It leads you to <br />the golden shoe, <br />you slip inside, <br />go for a ride.' <br /> <br />'Where to, my friend, <br />where will they send <br />me from the shoe <br />endorsed by you? ' <br /> <br />'Please understand, <br />it's Yonderland, <br />a land so free <br />where you can be <br /> <br />where children thrive <br />truly alive <br />where they may sigh <br />but never cry.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/where-children-never-cry/
