When I Grow Up . . . . . .

When I grow up I want to be a fireman,
I want to be a footballer and score goals,
let's be pop stars, then we can sing on the stage,
I'd like to be a lion tamer, keep them in a cage.

We asked 'them' ten years later - some changes,
now it's a doctor, software engineer, architect,
writer, actor, not easy, the choice might be worse,
with all these options, no mention of a psychiatric nurse.

O f course, things develop as we go along, diversify,
community support worker, suicide breavement counselor;
someone has to do it, ah - is that the reasoning,
or is it genuine concern for what caring may bring.

In hindsight, it might have been so nice to sing,
but when I think about it, I wouldn't change a thing.