The Writers' Circle

Its midnight and I am laying in bed, wondering to myself,
What I want to be when I grow up.
I stare into the sky and peer at all the stars and wonder what it would be like,
To have every dream coming true. 
I think hard and realize that...
Do I want to have air brushed photos in all the magazines?
Do I want all the boys down on their knees?
Do I want all the movie stars to feel jealous of me? 
Do I want to be the youngest president in the world? 
Do I want to marry a King?
Do I want to walk in a bookstore and see only my books on shelves?
	Do I want to have everything free from shoes to mansions?
Do I want to have invented a device to save the world?
Do I want to have nature around me but still be in the city centre?
Do I want to design clothes for Chanel?
Do I want to speak every language known to man? 
Do I want to be the fairest lady in all the land?
Do I want to swim the English Channel at the age of 100?
Do I want to have the brains of a computer? 
Do I want to have the view of mountains from my bedroom window?
Do I want to have pearl white teeth shimmering? 
Do I want to have a beautiful singing voice that makes strong eyes water?
Do I want to sleep on notes of money instead of feather pillows?
Do I want to eat all I want still be thin as a stick?
Do I want to have a statue of me in the central park?
Do I want to climb Everest when 16?
Do I want to see only my face on billboards in New York?
Do I...?