The Future

A future world that I’ll be in,
It is my firm belief,
Is one in which I needn’t wash
Or even brush my teeth.

I can roll about in squelchy mud,
Climb and swing from trees,
I might put holes in all my shorts
But I’ll still have sparkly knees.

I could snaffle sweets for breakfast,
And drink syrup by the bowl,
But I’d never see the dentist
Who’d be soon out on the dole.

My smile would still be pearly white,
I’d still smell like a rose,
I’ll start my future life tomorrow
and let you know soon how it goes.