If I could paint my own sky,
It would be filled with shades of pink and purple,
The brush strokes a swirl of harmonious colors.

If I could mold my own sky,
It would be shaped into a never-stopping heart,
Each pitter-patter of the rain a heartbeat.

If I could compose my own sky,
The melody would be full of cheerful sharps,
A heavenly soprano blasting out from the clouds.

If I could weave my own sky,
All the children's dreams would be woven in the stars,
All the children's hopes beaming down sunshine.

Oh, if only I could be my own rule maker, my own sky weaver,
Endless fulfilled dreams would rain down,
No waves would crash the shore; no tears would ever fall...

And no one would ever question why.