Charles holds his picture up to show "Excuse me did I do this wrong?" Tugging at my pantleg I tell him there s no wrong in art He frowns and squints in disbelief Answer: Unsatisfactory Always asking me for the right and wrong Charles wants to know how to sing the songs How to sing along Can I make him love his own melodies? Children scattered round the classroom floor Like blank pages on tablecloths I tried to sing them all to sleep Charles at my chair, he can t lay down Too excited to be alive And he wants some answers out of me A blank sheet of paper and the crayons clutched tightly in our hands This is what we dream This is what we dream Wipe the slate clean Now let s begin Used to thing I could save the world With a sign and my fist up in the air Now the blank page is in front of me And the task has me so fuckin scared Scrubbing the paint from my fingers Stains bled from a child s psyche Mixes like blood into water Secretly, as if someone s watching Regurgitate like a machine? I strive for more than leading sheep Scribbling wildly on their futures How did I become the teacher? I m struggling hard not to return To teachings I ve tried to unlearn