I'm really rotten reader
the worst in all the class,
the soft of  rotten reader
that makes you want to laugh.

I'm last in all the readin' tests,
my score's not on the page
and 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 a c-a-t from k-u-p.

They say that I 'm dylectic
(that's a word they've just found out)
....but when I get some plasticine
I know what that's about.

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

I make these super models,
I build these smashing towers
that reach up to the ceiling
− and take me hours and hours.

I paint these lovely pictures 
in thick green drippy paint
that gets all on the carpet--
and makes the cleaners faint.

I build great magic forests 
weave bushes out of string
and paint pink panderellos
and birds that really sing.

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

They give me diagnostic tests,
they try out reading schemes,
but none of them will ever know
the colour of my dreams.