The Colour Of My Dreams

I'm a really rotten reader, the worst in all the class
The sort of rotten reader, that makes you want to laugh
I'm last in all the reading tests, my scores not on the page
When I read to teacher, she gets in such a rage

She says I cannot form my words
She says I can't build up
And that I don't know phonics
And don't know "cat" from "cut"

They say than I'm dyslexic
That's a word they just found out
But when I get some plastacine
I know what that's about

I make these scary monsters
I draw these secret lands
I get my hair all sticky
And paint all on my hands

I make these super models
I build these smashing towers
They reach up to the ceiling
And take me hours and hours

She says I cannot form my words
She says I can't build up
And that I don't know phonics
And don't know "cat" from "cut"

They say than I'm dyslexic
That's a word they just found out
But when I get some plastacine
I know what that's about

I paint these lovely pictures
In thick green drippy paint
It gets on all the carpert
And makes the cleaners faint

I build great magic forests
Wee bushed out of string
And paint pink pandarellos
And birds thay really sing

She says I cannot form my words
She says I can't build up
And that I don't know phonics
And don't know "cat" from "cut"

They say than I'm dyslexic
That's a word they just found out
But when I get some plastacine
I know what that's about

I play my world of real believe
I play it every day
People stand and watch me
But don't know what to say

They give me diagnostic tests
And try out reading schemes
But none of them will ever know
The colour of my dreams